


Flying in Paris

by poppicock



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Butterfly Miraculous, F/M, Gen, Hawk Moth is Gabriel Agreste, Peacock Miraculous, The 90s, fashion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-03 14:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6613780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppicock/pseuds/poppicock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel and Celine, start off as two young college students balancing life, work, and being superheroes in Paris. How the line between love and hate is a blur of pretty dresses, peacock feathers, and butterflies in the 1990s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Model

**Author's Note:**

> Please see the notes at the end!

Summary: The story of Celine Russo (Mama Agreste) as Madame Peacock and Gabriel Agreste as Hawkmoth, as beginning college students.

* * *

 

Chapter 1: A New Model

 

Madame Peacock leaned against the cool brick of the rooftop, sitting next to her partner-in-crime, Hawkmoth, watching over the city of Paris silently.

He broke the silence, nudging her, "I start university tomorrow, you know."

She nodded, "We talked about not discussing our private lives, and yet, here we are." It was midday, the days had begun to grow shorter, the smell of sunlight less crisp, and the birds were gradually disappearing south. Summer would be over soon.

"But—do you? Do you start college or whatever tomorrow?" He twittered, from several feet away.

He never really sat close to her, and it took several years for him to even muster up a conversation with her. It was nice now, their friendship, even if he was a relatively nervous mothball of a man.

She smiled, brushing away a blonde flyaway. "First day of work, and school."

He grimaced, "School _and_ a job?"

_Every time we divulge like this,_ she thought, _I'm the center of attention._ "Yes, Hawky."

She stood, looking over the city. The summer had been relaxed for once. Tourists had been well behaved within the city's limits, crime had decreased as Madame Peacock and Hawkmoth asserted themselves as the heroes of Paris.

"Maybe we'll end up at the same school." He joked.

"Keep dreaming, loverboy." She turned her head back to him, winking, "I'm off for the day, see you tomorrow!"

He smiled, but as soon as she was out of site, he murmured, "Goodbye, my love."

 

* * *

 

 

Gabriel tried to smile, well, he always made some attempt to smile. The first day of design school. He wore a cream-colored sweater, royal blue trousers, and a matching dress shirt underneath, with a green tie. _Madame Peacock,_ give me strength. He twirled his miraculous ring around his finger. His hands were his tell.

It was one week into school, and they were receiving models for the rest of the semester. Her classmates, were rather twitter-pated at the idea of beautiful women strutting into their workshop. Everyone sat at their drawing tables, waiting patiently.

Their instructer, and old crow of a woman, walked in, the models quickly followed. They weren't as bright as Gabriel expected, but they didn't have their makeup and hair done, either. They were all tall and lanky.

He eyed his designed dress in the corner of his eye, hanging on a rack along with several other student's design. Scanning the models, he wondered which one would look the most flattering in his champagne and blush evening gown.

It was a beaded balconette corset with a fluffy tulle skirt, ripped and deconstructed to create a bubble of chaos. The beading was painstakingly-hand done and required the perfect model to wear it. He was pleased with himself.

"Gabriel Agreste." His instructor pulled him out of his admiration.

He blinked, "Ma'am?" Looking around the room, he realized that all the designers had been assigned their models, and he stood up, realizing that he had no model yet. All around him, models were being fitted to the dresses that, if he didn't get his model soon, would out do his.

"Your model is going to be fifteen minutes late." The instructor told him, "She's getting across Paris from university classes."

He set his jaw, "Why would you hire a model who can't show up to the fitting appointment on time?"

"If you have her measurements, it shouldn't be a problem no?" The instructor smoothed her Chanel dress, "I assigned her to you because I know that you can handle it. If she drops all her anthropology studies, she could easily be a top-notch runway model." There was a distinct twinkle in her eye.

"You'll like her." The instructor added, before traipsing away. "Most people do!" She called back to him, winking.

_Most people do._ He looked at his dress form, the index card of her type-written measurements pined to the neck. He sighed, and took out his sketchbook from his messenger. Gabriel Agreste decided that whoever this anthropology student was, he would hate her.

"I'm sorry I'm late, are you Gabriel?" Someone stammered at him, approximately fifteen minutes later. "I was getting across town from class."

He pushed up the front of his eyeglasses, and turned to her. She had thick golden hair, tied back in a messy bun, secured in a green scrunchie. She had a bulky black sweatshirt over her, and a pair of dark, denim jeans. Her hands were entwined with the pair of heels he had picked out for her yesterday, as well as a green purse. "And you are?"

She thrust out a shaking hand, "Celine Russo, part-time model."

He flicked her hand away with his, and spun on his heals towards his dress. "I need you to put this on."

"Oh! Alright, what's your project for?" She leaned around him, "That's beautiful!"

Scowling, he took his dress off the rack, "Don't be so chatty, Ms. Russo. Part-time? Get undressed, we're running out of time." The appointment only lasted one hour, and then the designers were required to take their model out for lunch, partly paying them for their work.

He could see the blush forming on her cheeks. Watching her weasel her way out of her clothes and off-brand sneakers, Gabriel wondered how she ever got this job in the first place. What was her allure? 

She sat on his chair, and her feet slid easily into the white heels, the rounded toe fitting her foot almost perfectly. Celine stood in front of him in a nude strapless bra, and nude boy-shorts. Lastly, the part-time model let her wavy hair down. "I assume you'll zip me up, right?"

He raised his eyebrows, his eyes catching her subtle abdominal muscles, the way her calves curved in the stiletto, the supple biceps hidden under her frumpy clothing. She was tall, yes, but there was nothing lanky about her. Was it her muscles that made her so appealing? Did this woman bank on her timeless blend of femininity and masculinity? He was wondering, certainly. Turning, Gabriel gestured her over, "Step in."

She gingerly stuck her feet into the dress, and he circumvented her. Getting down, he began to pull the dress over her. Over her sinuous legs, her thighs, her hips, and her waist. Zipping her in, he was thankful for every hour he spent on the dress. He was thankful for the five years of sewing and patterning. It had fit her perfectly.

"Turn." He told her, a little bit less frigid then before.

Taking a step back, he watched Celine turned, and held his breath. He understood why she could take the world by storm. The pastel fabric complimented her honey-soaked skin, and he was suddenly struck with how lucky he was to be assigned a model, he knew, who would look stunning in any color.

He reached under the drawing table, pulling out more shredded tulle, and fastening the wrist pincushion to his left wrist. There was a stool, about a foot off the ground, that he sat on. Gabriel started to pin more pieces to her.

In his element, he didn't notice the alarm clock going off. "Appointment's over! Everyone break for lunch."

He frowned, barely halfway done with his pinning. Gabriel knew he wouldn't finish. Everything in him began to tense up, his face hot with anger at this model.

"The instructor told me to tell you that we could take an extra fifteen minutes, to make up for the fifteen that I was late." She murmured.

He grimaced, "If you were on time, this wouldn't have happened."

"I had class."

He glanced up at her, glaring, and demanded, "What's a student doing trying to be a model, anyway? You can't do both."

She chuckled slightly, though the tone in her voice was clear, sharp, "Watch me, Gabriel Agreste."

He continued to pin his garment, and she turned for him as he did. They worked alone in the spacious, updated warehouse of a classroom, silently stewing.

Celine hadn't met anyone quite as irritating as him, and when she finally had his back to him, she surmised her face into a scowl.

When several more minutes had passed. She heard the stool scrape backwards, "We're done here." He told her, unzipping the dress.

She stepped out of the garment, her cheeks hot. "Lunch, then?"

He took the dress up, draping it over his work table, next to his sewing machine. "There's money on the drawing table."

"But your instructor—" She began.

"I'm not wasting my time networking with a tardy, part-time model," He snapped back, "That's more than enough to get you lunch and across town."

She furrowed her eyebrows, but knew that her job was contingent on her level of professionalism. Celine slid off the heels, and placed them in his hands. She quickly got into her sweatshirt, jeans, and shoes.

In a flurry, she was out the door. "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him," she promised herself that as long as she was in the fashion industry, she would never work with Gabriel Agreste, again.

"Oh, he's not too bad!" Her kwami, pooki, poked her blue head out of her purse, her eyelashes fluttered up at Celine, her three peacock feathered tail fluttered up, "You never know, you might end up liking him."

"I highly doubt that."

 

* * *

 

 

Madame Peacock dropped down at the foot of the tree, next to the dumbstruck teenager, a kid with fiery red hair.

"My cat is stuck!" He pointed, "He refuses to come down."

She looked up, and gave the long-haired, black cat a wicked grin. "Well, I guess I'll have to go up and get him, won't I?"

Smiling, she flew up to the spot where this old cat was stuck. The mangy thing retreated away from her, until she used her miraculous.

"Feather's out!"

Her cape, sprung out, revealing a fan of peacock-feathers, her attraction on full-gear. Suddenly, the cat leapt into her arms and began to nuzzle her neck.

She pet him with her gloved hand, and floated back down. "Feathers in," She murmured, her allure fading off.

Handing the feline over to the thankful teenage, she turned.

And who else could she see but none other than Gabriel Agreste, sitting on a park bench, staring at her. _I might humiliate him._

She strutted up to him, her hips swaying her skin tight suit. She was in front of him, looking down on him and his sketchbook. "You know," Celine as Madame Peacock purred to him, "It's not polite to stare."

He leaned back, sputtering, "I-I wasn't staring at you."

She looked into his ocean eyes, "You don't think I'm worth staring at then? I'm considered to be among the most beautiful women in all of Paris, you know."

Gabriel stared back at her, speechless. Madame Peacock had never acted this way when he stood next to her as Hawkmoth, "I…I think you're stunning, Madame Peacock." He found himself fumbling his words with her, a habit he had broken with her when he was a superhero. "The newspapers don't do you justice."

She scruffed up his combed back hair, and the dirty blonde tendrils fell over his face, "You're surprisingly kind to me. You should take me to lunch sometime."

He grinned, and started to scribble his number over one of his designs. And as he ripped the page out and handed it to her, she flew off, hitting him with her feathers. She didn't take the piece of paper with her, but he could hear the distinct sounds of her laughter echoing through Paris.

Whirling his hand, he watched as she flew off, flipping mid-air, the center of Paris's attention. _What the hell was that, Madame Peacock?_ He wondered, hoping to see her later tonight on rounds.

 

* * *

 

 

Hawkmoth and Peacock stood outside the prison, watching as the inmates began to run out. They had received word of the break, and now were no prepared to stop it.

"Declare a champion, I'll use my powers to get them to stop." She told him warily.

He nodded, releasing a white butterfly from his hands, and started to coax a guard. "You want to return the prisoners back to their cells, accept my power and return them back where they came from, Guardian."

There was a sudden flash of light, and the prisoners flooding out began to run even faster. They saw Madame Peacock, and began to run in the other direction, towards a forest. The outskirts of Paris would be overrun, soon enough.

Madame flew and slide in front of the pack leader, "Feathers out!"

The men all stopped, and began to lunge for her, entranced by the peacock. She held her hand up, and they froze in their tracks.

Guardian ran out, his gun the source of the butterfly's power. He shot the seven escapees, them zapping back to their cells. She was impressed by the swiftness of Hawkmoth's champion. She heard the cheering of the guards.

"Feathers in." She said, her cape falling back down.

Hawkmoth stepped towards the guard, releasing his butterfly. She had known him since they were children, and he still always struggled giving up the power, and letting someone else besides him save the day. He was fine with Madame Peacock being the hero, because ultimately, his champion still won, but she knew it was her partner who wanted to be the hero.

Her peacock broach began to beep, one of the feathers going black. She flew towards Gabriel, who was trying to explain to the guard that he had stopped the prison break.

"I'm headed out, my darling butterfly, take care."

"R-right. Well done, Peacock." His own ring began to beep.

 

* * *

 

 

Gabriel sat in the office of his mansion, a gift passed down to him by his late grandfather. He was attaching all of the tulle he added on from the fitting. "Nooroo, I don't think I'm cut out for this anymore."

Nooroo jumped up from a pillow on a nearby couch, "Gabriel! Why would you say that?"

"I want to know her, I want to stand by her side, I love her, Nooroo." He frowned, "She's known me for four years and we haven't revealed our identities to each other."

"It'll happen in time, I'm sure."

He pricked his finger with his hand needle, wincing, he persevered on, he had to finish the dress tomorrow, or he'd be completely unprepared for the runway.

It was early the next day when he was at the door of Master Fu's studio, he thrust the door open, looking like absolute death.

"Gabriel."

His head shot up at her voice, she was sweeping up the waiting room. Celine walked behind the simplistic desk. "Celine?" He stated, it was 5 AM, and he wondered what time she had gotten there. When did she start working there? Suddenly, he felt almost foolish. Had Gabriel ignored her every time he stepped into Fu's studio?  

"Do you have an appointment?" She smiled slightly.

He cleared his throat, "It wouldn't be listed, can you tell him that I'm here, however?"

She tilted her head, but indeed slipped into the back room.

"What the hell, Nooroo?"

"Don't ask me!" He peaked out of the sweater, "Master Fu probably needs help cleaning up around here."

Master Fu was sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper.

"Why is Gabriel Agreste a customer of yours? And why is he here?"

He twittered, "Do you know him?"

"I'm his model at the design school…he's a complete jackass, Fu." Celine leaned against the door. She hadn't been working for her friend very long, maybe only a couple weeks, but this coincidence? It was definitely strange. 

Fu smiled, and winked, "Perhaps it's fate, Celine."

Later, after he sent Celine on a grocery run, he told Gabriel, "Perhaps it's fate, Gabriel."

He sighed, looking at the mysterious man, "Does she have something to do with miraculouses or not?"

"She's was homeless before I took her in." He frowned, "You should be kinder to her. She hasn't had the advantages that you've had."

He put his hands in pockets, "That's not what I came to talk about. I came for Madame Peacock and I."

"Yes, what about her?"

Gabriel sat down, "Things…aren't working for me. I can't do this. I want to be a hero, I want to save the world with her. I hate having to send someone in my place to do it for me."

Fu cocked a smile, "I'm sure Madame Peacock sees you as a hero."

"But I don't see myself as a hero, Fu. You need to give my miraculous to someone else." He went on, "And even so, why haven't we revealed our identities to each other? I'm afraid she doesn't see me as a hero."

"You need to learn to give up control, Gabriel." He admonished, "Let your miraculous change you, let your hero persona blend in with who you are every day. You asked me why I didn't give you the peacock miraculous, and this is why. Your confidence would corrupt who you are."

"And the identities thing?"

Fu frowned, "It's not uncommon for partners to never reveal themselves," He explained, "I'm sure Peacock just wants to protect you."

He sighed, "Alright."

"Gabriel."

"Yeah?"

"I know she means a lot to you. I promise you, you mean a lot to her." Fu told him. "This isn't easy, having a miraculous, but someone has to do it."

He sighed, standing. Gabriel didn't feel much better. "I have class in a few, I should get going…Thank you, though."

"Anytime, Gabriel Agreste." Fu soothed.

He slid open the door, just as Celine was entering it, he stumbled backwards, "Don't you have better things to do than eavesdrop?"

She spilled her groceries onto the floor, and he watched her pick them up, alone. "You're a complete jackass, you know that?" Celine retorted, "You're spoiled and cruel."

"Don't you two have to work with each other for the rest of the semester?" Master Fu cut in before Gabriel had the chance to reply, "Keep it professional for now, okay?"

"Fine." They said in unison. Gabriel stepped around her, heading out the door, not quite understanding why his heart was racing out of his chest. She had a draw to her, certainly.

 

* * *

 

 

Hawkmoth stepped overlooked the roof, watching Celine cross the street. _Why does she work for Master Fu? Does she have a miraculous? Is she…Madame Peacock…the woman I love?_ His thoughts kept racing. He had never seen Celine in the shop before, but he had always visited Fu when she should've been in high school anyway.

_There's no way they're the same person._ He tracked her along the roof. Gabriel didn't often fly, but he would if it meant getting to the bottom of things.

It was a Saturday, the runway had come and gone, and yes, Celine was stunning. Her hair and makeup got the highest scores of the day, and his dress was still being graded, but he suspected it would be good news.

When he saw her that morning, Gabriel couldn't disguise his amazement. "I didn't realize you cleaned up so nicely."

"Thanks." She huffed, heading backstage with the rest of the models.

And now, she was walking home from a dinner that she had with one of his classmates, a fellow designer who thought that she was _somehow_ charming. Still, he watched her walk back towards Master Fu's apartment.

Hawkmoth hadn't taken to watching her much, but she was Fu's ward, and that meant something.

She was crossing the street of the building he stood upon, when out of the corner of his eye, something flashed. He whirled his head to the group of thugs, gripping knives. His head turned back towards Celine, and she was already surrounded.

He hopped down, landing in the center of the circle. Celine looked at him with wide eyes, "Hawkmoth."

"Be on your way." He ignored her, speaking to the ruffians around them.

One of them, in a thick accent, retorted, "What are you going to do? Make this little dollface your little soldier?"

"Just hand over her wallet, and we'll be gone," Another one said, "Or there's gonna be trouble."

Gripping his fists, he took a swing at them, and in the corner of his eye, he could see Celine doing the same. He wasn't nearly as experienced, but the work was quick, and the thugs ran down the street.

She turned to him, his hair scruffy, his face scuffed. "My hero. Were you following me?"

"Take a cab next time." He frowned, and began to turn to walk away, down an alley. Suddenly, she grabbed his wrist.

"Wait." Celine said, meeting his blue eyes with her emerald ones. "There has to be something I can do to return the favor. I'm truly grateful." She felt off-balance, as though he could blow on her and she'd float away. 

"I'm not a hero." He answered drily, pulling away.

She shook her head, "You're my hero, Hawkmoth."

Gabriel, as Hawkmoth, was grateful that she couldn't' see the blush forming on his cheeks. "L-let me walk you home, alright? That'll be the end of it." 

She nodded, hooking her arm around him, causing him to stiffen. He would relax soon. "Thank you, Hawkmoth, I didn't expect you to be quite the gentleman." She lied. Celine felt that she had known him longer than anyone else, but now she strode down Paris with him. Everything was new.


	2. I Shouldn't Have

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celine and Gabriel's lives are complicated to no ends! What are these feelings?

Chapter 2: I Shouldn't Have

* * *

 

Celine's foot tapped impatiently under her desk, listening to the lecture on ancient Tibetan culture. She couldn't stop her mind from wondering to Hawkmoth, the way he walked her home, the way he smiled at her, the way he kissed her cheek and flew off. 

When Fu had asked her how the date with George had gone, she told him that it was fine. The student designer had talked for most of the meal, and he was altogether a charming fellow, but Celine wouldn't ask him for a second date.

However, she had hoped that she would see Hawkmoth again.

God, this was awkward. Celine felt so knotted up inside, knowing that that he loved Madame Peacock. She also knew that if they got too close, they would reveal their secret identities to each other. Nothing terrified her more than to think of him, seeing her as a stray, taken in by Fu from the streets of Paris. That, and the danger of the two of them both knowing. Hawkmoth and Madame Peacock had their share of kidnappings, and the thought of them slipping up, revealing the other. It was too much. 

She swallowed, trying to understand this feeling inside her. She knew that Hawkmoth would never reveal his identity to Celine, however. He had told her a thousand times that he'd only reveal his identity to Madame Peacock. For now, that was safe. That was enough. The random encounters with him while she was a civilian would satisfy her.

The class was over soon enough, and she stood, quickly filing out of the lecture hall. Slipping into the bathroom, Pooki poked her head out of her purse.

"What's got your feathers ruffled, Celine?" Pooki winked, "Something tells me that I know exactly who it is."

Grimacing, she told Pooki to transform her, and she slipped into the brooch pinned to her sundress. Madame Peacock slipped out of the window, and onto the street, into the skies of Paris. It would be a quick flight.

Dropping into the alley next to the design school, she de-transformed, stepping into a side door. She headed down the hallway, passing classrooms, but she was headed for the workroom, where Gabriel waited.

He watched her approach, "Nice of you to show up on time."

For no discernible reason, his heart was racing, the way her dress flowed down her legs like a summer breeze, her hair was brushed to the side, spun sunlight. Now his heart was in a tizzy.

She approached him, her eyebrows raised, "What can I do for you today?"

_Pull yourself together,_ he thought, trying not to stumble on his words, "A fall to winter collection piece. A cape, a sweater, a pair of pants." He handed her a hanger, "Just put your dress on this so it doesn't wrinkle."

She took the hanger, and stepped towards the rack, looking at all the designer clothes on the rack, knowing that the earth tones and beige-embroidered clothes were his immediately. Celine placed her mediocre, thrifted dress onto the rack, feeling rather small. Everything he made was stunning, sophisticated, and classy. Meanwhile, in her real life, everything she wore was drab, second-hand, and mucky.

Pulling his garments off the rack, she turned to him, "These, right?"

He raised his eyebrows, "How did you know?"

"I've been wearing your clothing for almost a month now, I think I have your style pretty down." She smiled slightly, trying not to hate him desperately. Although things had smoothed over between the two of them, he was still frigid. He had, has, and will always hate her, in her mind.

Celine handed the clothing to him, but their hands didn't brush. In fact, it seemed as though Gabriel was doing everything to avoid her. This was normal for her.

He frowned, "Please don't presume to know my 'style'. You should focus more on your lackluster modelling instead of my designs."

Her eyes hardly widened, but her voice was clipped, "Let's make this quick, then." Everything in her felt as though it was on fire.

Handing the garments back to her, he turned and agreed, "Put these on, stop wasting my time."

Her fingers gripped the hangers, her knuckles white. He glanced at his drawing table, his array of sewing pins, the pencils he meticulously sharpened, and wondered what the hell he was doing.

Remaining silent during the fitting, he stood after hemming the trousers over the brown suede boots she wore. "We're done. Where do you want to go for lunch?"

Celine held back a sigh.

He continued, trying his best to make things right, "I assure you, I'm great—outside of work, I mean."

She nodded, biting her tongue, forcing out the words, "I'll go wherever you want to go." _Please don't take me out to lunch!_ She internally begged him, and now, she actually hoped the somewhere, the city needed Madame Peacock.

Gabriel smiled, trying his best not to be a complete sourpuss.

Several minutes later, they sat across from each other, next to a street window in a small, hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant.

Weakly smiling, he tried to prevent his knees from knocking, "So, how was that date with George?"

She blushed, her eyes widening, "H-how did you know about that?"

"We're all in the same classes. He told me."

"What? Right. What have you heard?"

Gabriel had heard that she was incredibly shy, and took several glasses of wine to loosen up. "I heard you were quite lovely." Chuckling, he went on, "Though, I'm sure he chatted your ear off."

Sitting back, she relaxed, "He did."

"Did you do anything after?" He prodded, hoping that she would reveal her interaction with Hawkmoth.

Shaking her head, she responded that she had just headed home. "It was a lovely evening all in all."

He held back his sigh, wondering if there was any way he could work Hawkmoth into the conversation. Gabriel took a sip of his water.

"I did however," she added sheepishly, "almost get mugged, and then saved by Hawkmoth after the date."

Almost choking on his water, he sputtered out, "What was that like?" Clearing his throat, Gabriel grinned and tilted his head to the side, "I've heard he's quite charming."

"Well, Anyone would be charming compared to you, no?" Celine straightened, "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate of me to say," remembering herself, "He was reserved, I guess, but he was sweet. I suppose I would've rather gone on a date with him."

He looked amused, genuinely charmed by her wit. "Even so, that's very interesting that you met him. He's not Madame Peacock, but he's something else, you know?" The waiter had brought them their food.

She frowned, "Please don't tell anyone I told you. I haven't even told you." Celine stared down at her salad, and began to pick up her fork.

Taking a bite of his stir fry, he looked back up at her, suddenly embarrassed, "Why? Did he say anything to you about that?"

Stabbing the cabbage in her bowl, she answered, "It's…a lot of attention I don't really want on myself. It wasn't a big deal, you know? He's just doing his job." Celine's eyebrows furrowed.

"You're a part-time model, I-I guess I just figured you'd really like—"

"Well I don't. Don't presume what I like and what I don't like." She spat fire, "I don't like extraneous attention, the less eyes on me, the better."

 

* * *

 

Hawkmoth stood on the fire escape outside Celine's room, swallowing his pride, he tapped on the window. "Celine?" He called, "Are you there?"

She opened the window, and squirreled herself, and stood next to him the fire escape. They both leaned against the wall, the lit window between them. "You can't come here."

"I wanted to apologize for last night. I shouldn't have—"

Arms crossed, her steeled herself, "If you get to close to me, you could put me in danger. I like you, I really do, but it's not safe."

They over looked the alley behind Fu's studio, and although it was deserted, Gabriel also understood her need to feel safe. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm not the kind of guy who kisses girls he's saved as some sort of reward. You were very brave, and you probably didn't need my help." He tried to explain, "I wanted to make sure that I hadn't overstepped any boundaries."

They took a moment. He was thinking about the way she took down the muggers, clipping them efficiently. She didn't waste her time trying to enact revenge, she wasn't needlessly violent. Celine did what had to be done in a situation that she was put into. Something tells him that she's always been the kind of girl who'd do what she had to and nothing more, nor nothing less.

"No, you didn't." Celine admitted to him, "It was rather pleasant, I assure you." She looked over to him. "Come inside, will you? It's chilly tonight."

He hoped that she couldn't feel his blush from across the fire escape. "I—I have to go, though. Madame Peacock and I are doing rounds, and it's been a long day."

"Oh." She smiled weakly, "Alright. Have a good night."

Hawkmoth looked her, her skin practically glowing in the moonlight. He sighed, and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. Although it was all folded up, he handed it to her.

She unfolded it, revealing an intricately embroidered purple butterfly in the center of the white cloth. "I don't understand."

"If you need me," Hawkmoth told her, "For any reason. If you're in any sort of trouble, hang this in your window and I'll be there." With those words, he was off.

She felt the fabric between her fingers, stepping back into her bedroom. "Pooki, what am I going to do?"

Hawkmoth landed on a balcony of the Agreste mansion, transforming back into the posh designer. He leaned his head against the glass set into the door. "I don't know what I'm feeling, Nooroo."

* * *

Madame Peacock stood outside of the burning house, most of the partying college kids out and safe. Hawkmoth stepped out, carrying two shaking models over his shoulders.

It took her a second to realize that it was a house party being held by the designers and models from the design school. She had rejected the invitation herself, but now stood on the lawn. "Is everyone out? Look around and make sure all you friends are with you." She demanded of them. The night was still young, and some of them were sober enough to answer her.

"Gabriel?"

Her eyes widened, she turned to George, that redheaded designer, who told her, "He was here right before the fire started, and now…" Trailing off, the worry on his face was painted on him.

She dove back into the building, Hawkmoth turned back in with her, "I don't think we'll find him!" He called to her, as she started moving timbers, as circumnavigating the flames.

Madame Peacock shook her head and turned to him, "I can find him myself, Hawkmoth, you help put out the fire."

He sighed, knowing that'd he'd get silt all over the sweater he had worn to the party. That would be a nightmare to launder.

Gabriel located himself between a fiery hallway and a bathroom that hadn't yet burst into flames. Luckily, this room didn't have a window. He had walked in as Hawkmoth, and now he was banging on the door, screaming to be rescued.

"Stand back!" She called, "I'm busting the door down."

Gabriel took several steps back, not in the slightest bit concerned at the love of his life. He knew that she would save him. Prodding the floor, feeling the heat rise, he knew from experience that the floor was about to collapse. Madame Peacock was running out of time. Taking another step back, he also knew that if the floor _did_ collapse, it would be best to stand closer to the walls. 

With a loud crash the door was down, Madame Peacock's blue outfit singed, her skin muddled with dirt and silt. She saw him, and flew towards him, grabbing him into her arms.

Gabriel didn't realize that she could dead lift a grown man, but in a second, he was about to be more surprised.

He realized that she was flying towards the wall, meaning to break it down. Gabriel felt herself turn them in midair, her back to the wall, bracing the impact. Shutting his eyes, he knew that her thick cape of peacock feathers would not protect her. His heart was filled with guilt, knowing that he'd most likely walk away from this unscathed.

The next thing he knew, they were sprawled in the backyard, alone. The firefighters were in the front yard.

She wasn't moving, but everything was in pain. Gabriel couldn't see her back, but knew enough to know that it was torn to shreds. It would take time to heal that she couldn't waste.

He went into the front yard, telling his friends that he was fine, and quickly made a retreat back into the backyard, saying he left his knapsack there before things went down.

He transformed again, once he was out of sight. Madame was still knocked out, but he knew that she hadn't used any of her powers tonight, and wouldn't de-transform.

It was his turn to scoop her up into his arms, trying desperately to get back to the Agreste mansion before she woke up. Her head nuzzled against his chest, and he assumed that it was an involuntary reaction, but his heart was pounding, nonetheless. _This is the safest bet,_ he told himself. _All you have to do is convince her of two things. One, that you, as Gabriel Agreste, took her back to his house, by car, to tend to her wounds. Two, that he has Fu's salve because of a back injury caused by a skiing accident._ Two lies, that was it. That's all it would take. He thought that his plan was so simple.

He got out of his transformation, put a towel down on the couch, and set her on it. He retreated to the bathroom of his own room, retrieving a salve that Fu had given him. It was a small green pot, with a white, sparkling lotion inside. He hadn't needed it much as a superhero, but it pretty much healed and erased all battle wounds from existence. Peacock would be alright in no time.

"If you use that, she'll know that it's Fu's! She probably has her own pot of it in her house." Nooroo prodded, "Is that a risk you're willing to take?"

Gabriel thought about the wounds bleeding out, and knew everything was a matter of time. "I can't let her sit there festering, Nooroo. I have a plan."

His kwami slumped, and he reached into his pocket, pulling out a crouton. Nooroo took the crouton, eating it almost immediately, "This doesn't change how I feel."

Out the bathroom door, he slid down the banister of the grand staircase.

"Madame Peacock?" He called, wondering if she was awake.

She leaned up off the couch, her hands weakly supporting her as she got her elbows onto the armrest. "What happened?"

"I called a cab for us back here so my personal physician could see you." Gabriel chuckled, "Unfortunately, in my not-sober state, I forgot that he's on vacation." He held up the small pot, "Luckily, I have some salve that should clear everything up."

She tried to stand, but really couldn't move much. "I don't need your help, really. Who are you again?"

"You just rescued me out of a burning building." Blinking, he added, "I wanted to return the favor." 

Her face was hot, suddenly aware of where she was. She tried again to stand, "That's not necessary, I insist. You shouldn't have brought me here. You could put both of us in danger."

He thought about the way Celine had looked at him the same way, and said basically the same thing. Her hair was almost like Celine's, even. But Peacock's hair was hair-sprayed back, and feathered out over her shoulder. Celine's hair was non-committal to a wavy pattern, and didn't shine. Of course, now Peacock's hair was drenched in sweat, blood, and in her face.

"I'm sorry—"

"You're sorry?" Madame Peacock whispered, but her voice got gradually louder, "Where's Hawkmoth? Where's my partner? What makes you think that dragging me across Paris to your Agreste mansion that you live in all alone."

Gabriel scowled, "What makes you think that you know me? You're the one who threw herself into a wall of a burning building."

She scoffed, "It's kind of my job. And it's not as though you were making an active effort to get out of that bathroom."

His eyes darkened, "There was a fire."

"Hawkmoth is perfectly capable of protec—"

"You don't even know him, he's—" He didn't quite understand why she was so irateness had also come as a surprise.

"What?" She cut him off, "Do I not know the partner I've been working with for four years?" She stood, completely blocking out the pain she felt scorching through her body. "And who do you think you are?"

He cocked a crooked smile, his eyes staring her down devilishly. "I'm glad you asked."

_"Nooroo, transform me!"_

Celine watched Gabriel, and in a flash of purple and white light, Hawkmoth who stood before her. _Him? Of all the people…_ she thought. For change, he had left her speechless. Gabriel Agreste, the man who had been consistently cruel to her over the past month. The source of stress in her life. _What was Fu thinking, giving him a Miraculous?_ She thought.

She headed for the open window, feeling the breeze against her skin-tight suit. Peacock couldn't stand the sight of him, she couldn't stand the hot tears staining her cheeks, her shaking fists, or the feeling that her legs could give out at any moment.

"Peacock, you're leaving?" He walked towards her, "Talk to me." 

"I have nothing to say to you." She choked at him, "Stay the hell away from me."


	3. With Those Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words are said that can't be unsaid, And the two heroes of Paris will never be the same. How will Celine Russo handle the budding friendship between her and Gabriel Agreste?

Celine got back to the fire escape outside her window, and gripped the railing for a minute, until finally slipping inside. She couldn't stop shaking. She de-transformed, putting on a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt. 

Fu was in the living room, meditating in front of the heater. He turned when she entered, "Something's wrong. I'm making tea."

She sat on the couch, "It's just superhero stuff."

"Want to talk about it?"

Shaking her head, she replied, "It's nothing I can't handle, of course, it was just very shocking."

"The two of you are very interesting." Fu told her, heating up the stove. "Hawkmoth wants a decent amount of glory, and you want to stay out of the spotlight. Hawkmoth is cocky, arrogant, and confident. You have a lot of insecurities before you can accept the credit and celebration that you are due."

Wayzz peaked from a shelf on their bookshelf, from reading an open book, "You two really are weird, but I know that in time it will all be okay."

"Agreed." Pooki poked her head out of the hard-candy dish on the coffee table, "It could also always be worse."

She smiled weakly, Fu handed her a cup of tea, it came with a scoopful of honey, and she thought of all the times she had brought Hawkmoth a thermos of the same tea, she thought of Gabriel, drinking at the restaurant. They didn't seem like the same person. They weren't the same person. They couldn't be the same person, right?

Gabriel. The definition of arrogance in the public eye. He was every bit of a gentleman, and he wasn't overly cruel, but his tongue was sharp, and his high standards often pressured her. Overshadowing her, when people complimented how beautiful she looked in his designs, he thanked them before she had the chance to. No one infuriated and confounded her more than Gabriel Agreste. Then there was Hawkmoth.

Hawkmoth was a complete gentleman, kind, thoughtful, and possessed every quality that she wished Gabriel had. Hawkmoth put her first, making her feel as though she deserved all the attention she received as Madame Peacock. They had worked together in harmony for four years without so much of a hiccup. His love for her was clear, and he was rough around the edges, just like her.

Gabriel Agreste was just rough, and her only solace was that he didn't know it was her. The part-time model would remain as the part-time model.

After being healed by Fu that next morning, Celine took a cab down towards the design school. She would be early to her hair and makeup time, which hopefully would mean that she would get there before him.

He felt like death. Everything that he projected outwards to the world, the security that no matter what, Madame Peacock would be there for him, retreated inwards. Gabriel had never felt so rejected.

Stepping outside of his car, his steps felt heavier than usual. He was almost to the door of the warehouse, when he spotted a refreshed Celine stepping out of a cab. She was still paying the taxi driver, and he hurried inside. Gabriel didn't want to face anyone that reminded him that he was Hawkmoth, or anyone that remotely reminded him off Madame Peacock. 

Because he had all night to think, and Celine Russo certainly reminded him of her. There was an advantage to getting no sleep whatsoever.

Celine didn't say anything when she saw him, but sat in the hairstylist's chair. The model looked icy. The hairstylist, a young man with frosted pink hair, and reminded her, "You washed your hair yesterday, yes?"

"Yes, sir." She didn't meet Gabriel's gaze.

Arriving with her hair in a loose bun, and the stylist pulled out the scrunchie, and her blonde locks cascading down the back of hair. The stylist twittered, "What do you want with all of this, Agreste?"

Phasing back into reality, he told the stylist, "I want it matte, a half-up casual hairdo, I really want a good portion of hair out of her face and off the front of her shoulders. I will be photographing the back of the jacket as well, so her hair will be swept her left side at one point or another during the shoot."

The stylist nodded, and ran his fingers through Celine's hair. He pulled everything back, and then pulled up the crown section, "Like this, no?"

"Exactly." He stood in front of her, and she tried everything to avoid looking at him. Gabriel noticed. Well, she avoiding him normally all the time, but she typically wasn’t afraid to look at her. The anxiety was emanating off of her, and he could feel it down to the soles of his shoes.

When the blowdryer turned on, she was thankful that she couldn't hear anything except the whirr of hot air on her.

He stood by their makeup-artist, watching them swatch several swatch lipsticks on Celine's hand. When she had sat in the chair, she didn't look at him once. Her other hand gripped the sides of the high pedestal that she sat upon. Gabriel concluding that she was getting her head in the game.

"I want a glossy peach lip." Gabriel told the women who began to apply foundation. "And nude eyeshadow, as well as a blended natural eyeliner and lashes. Eyebrows should be natural, but filled in. Although I want her cheeks to be contoured, she will be in a winter wonderland, so don’t skimp on the blush."

Celine, meanwhile, was trying to keep her cool, in a world that made her feel as though she didn't belong. On top of that, Gabriel Agreste stood three feet behind her, staring into the mirror at her while the artist applied the mask of products on her.

"How much sleep did you get last night?" The artist asked, "Your skin is more tired than usual, Celine."

She smiled weakly, "My friend's house caught on fire. I wasn't there, but I heard about it and really couldn't sleep."

The artist hummed, "Madame Peacock and Hawkmoth were there for a bit, everyone got evacuated safely."

Gabriel said nothing, just wishing that they would stick to their work.

Celine didn't smile, "So I've heard."

He walked alongside her to the second building, the photo studio. They were the first scheduled photoshoot of the day, and the crew was still setting up the winter wonderland which all the designers would be using. They waited in the wings. The crispness of the Saturday chilled Gabriel, but Celine was already fully dressed in his winter project. She was almost toasty.

"So, what plans do you have for today?" He asked, trying to fill the silence.

Celine looked at the ground, "I'm studying for most of the afternoon. There's an exam that I have to prep for."

Five minutes had passed by silently, and Gabriel huffed, and said weakly, "Did I say something rude at lunch the other day? Have I offended you?"

Her head snapped back slightly, she shook her head, "I'm just exhausted, Gabriel, I'm moving out of Fu’s apartment and things are getting hectic."

His eyes widened, "You're moving?"

"I've got the money now, I have another modeling contract coming up with a cosmetics company, and another after that." She sighed, "Your teacher is right, I should drop anthropology and model full-time."

"You could do that."

"Of course," She smirked, hoping he wouldn't see the pain in her eyes, "I couldn't have done it without you and your fashion line."

He looked away, concealing his blush. "Well, you wear the clothing exquisitely, Celine."

It was around this time that the crew was ready for them. Celine stood next to a white fox, trained to stand on tall tree stump, meeting Celine's chest. She smiled slightly at the entire situation.

After he had gotten all the photos he needed, he walked up to her, "Let's do some pictures for your portfolio, okay?" Gabriel went to her back, and took off his coat, revealing the well-designed blouse that would compliment her perfectly.

He couldn't see the shock on her face when he undid the updo, and the braid going down. Gabriel undid the braid carefully, as the waves in her hair dripped down her shoulders. He was reminded of Peacock's hair, and stepped away, "You can do this."

Gabriel turned to face her, and she looked him head on, her eyes meeting his. He registered how much she was shaking. He took his hand, and swept her hair over her left shoulder. "This suits you, alright? You're doing well."

Her eyes twinkled, and she was fighting back tears, "T-thank you, Gabriel."

Celine gave it all she had, when the photographer told her, "Look into Gabriel's eyes, Celine. Gabriel, move left until I tell you…"

She looked at him from across the room, he looked back at her. Her eyes watered over, but she hadn't shed a tear yet. He was struck by how stunning she was. But Gabriel felt as though he could see right through her. Something was eating her alive on the inside.

Gabriel often felt as though he were the only person in the world to not have his emotions on display for everyone to see.

"Stop, That's perfect. Celine, look back at me." The photographer said, "This is gonna be great, honeybunch."

When they stepped off the set, Gabriel whispered to her, "It seems like we're both having an awful day." He held the coat his arms, as well as the heels she thrust to him.

 _"My day is going great, thank you._ " Celine steeled herself, the first emotional sentence she's had all day.

He smirked, slightly amused at her post-photoshoot, "How about some lunch then?" Gabriel knew she wouldn't turn down a good meal with him.

 _Just swallow your pride, it beats having to buy lunch later._ "Alright."

About a half hour later, they were eating pesto tomato sandwiches in a nearby park.

Realizing that it would be awfully suspicious if she ignored him the entire time, she mustered up her courage. "I'm glad your okay," She told him weakly, "That fire must've been something."

He swallowed a bite of sandwich, "Madame Peacock and Hawkmoth saved everyone. It was alright. When it started, I actually started looking for you, until I remembered that you hadn't come."

"How…nice. What were those two heroes like, anyway?" She prodded, wondering what the man who she knew to be Hawkmoth would say.

"Madame Peacock is amazing, almost as fiery as that fire itself. I didn't really get to see Hawkmoth, though." Gabriel told her.

 _Yeah, okay,_ she thought bitterly. "That's nice."

"You have her smile, actually." Gabriel told her warmly, "She has this really soft smile like she's trying to convey to you that everything's going to be fine because, hell, she's standing right there, ready to destroy evil."

She felt the sun on her skin, and the tomato juice dripping into her hands. Glancing over to him, she wondered if he would warm up to her.

He would, that day.

Needless to say, that lunch had gone well. Several months later, Gabriel and Celine sat on a musty couch in her new apartment in front of the TV. Fu had asked him to help her move, because he was too old and too teary-eyed. Celine was acting normally around him now, even warming up to his icy persona. Of course, this didn't abet his despair over Madame Peacock. They were good friends, however, and that was pleasant.

This was enough.

She picked up a slice of pizza, and he flipped the channel to the five-o'clock news.

"Paris today was saved by Hawkmoth, when a local jewelry store was robbed, he, as well as one of his champions, bravely thwarted the robbers. Let's cut back to the replay."

Hawkmoth stood amongst a flurry of reporters and police officers, absorbing the attention. Celine's eyes flicked to Gabriel's face for a moment, watching him watch himself. He didn't visible respond, if anything, he looked mildly annoyed at the entire situation.

 _Receiving all the attention you've sought after, hmm?_ She thought. Meanwhile, Madame Peacock had done all she could to stay out of the spotlight, thwarting crime and fleeing the scene before the reporters. She openly rejected cameras and questions nowadays, explaining that she simply wasn't interested.

"Hawkmoth!"

Her eyes went back to the screen.  _That reporter, the one who's been antagonizing me for the past month or so._ "Where's Madame Peacock?" Parisian media had grown very curious as to why Madame Peacock and Hawkmoth hadn't been seen together since the house party fire. Several reporters in particular had actually been assigned to find out, and this reporter was the most bothersome.

His face, on camera, his smile, of course, didn't waver for a second. "Unfortunately," He told the lovely brunette and her microphone, "Madame Peacock and I aren't working together anymore. For more information—" His eyes faltered on camera, the flash of pain showing for just a moment. Then gone. "—You can ask her." The words added salt to the wound, as every reporter knew that Madame Peacock never took questions, and never gave answers.

The footage cut back to the reporter. "So, it's true then?" Celine mused.

"What?" Gabriel was startled.

"They're separated. People have been speculating for the past few months, you know." She stood, and took a few steps into the kitchen that connected from the living room. It was a studio, the bed, kitchen, and living area all flowed into one another on the old hardwood floors.

Smiling slightly, he replied, "I don't really keep up with the superhero business." He watched her fiddling with a wine bottle in the kitchen.

He was completely taken aback by how well they had hit it off. Things had started so awkwardly and now they just naturally went together. Of course, he wasn't in love with her by any means, but she was there for him. She was smart, stubborn, and obnoxiously clever, and she had finally opened up to him. Gabriel almost forgot when Celine and him were spending time with each other.

Then he would be reminded of Peacock. Celine would wink at him, or search for him in a crowd. Sometimes, he would catch her with her hair out of that messy bun, cascading and blowing down her back. Celine could also tease him the way Peacock could. There was only so much schoolwork that he could bury himself into, so in the meantime, he spent time with her, helping her manage the modelling career that she had now attained.

She thrust a glass of wine into his hand, and he was pulled out of the spell of Peacock, and back into the spell of her. Celine Russo was bitter magic to him. "But it's sad, no?"

"I suppose, if you find it sad." Gabriel responded, trying his best to keep his cool. "Uh—how was the Valentino shoot?"

Taking a sip of wine, she smirked at him, and his breath caught in his throat. "Well," she told him, "It was quite nice, I was wearing this haute couture black velvet and tulle dress with a string drop shoulder and—" Celine stopped, "What?"

He realized that his expression was rather starry-eyed. Damn, he did like her very much. Gabriel had a lot of respect for someone who shined and handled the pressure he placed on them.

"I'm just kind of in awe." He told her, "You're doing it, you know? It's going to take me years to get to where you've gotten in a few months."

Looking at him devilishly, "You can always sign me, of course,  _if you can afford me by then…_ " She brought her feet up on the couch, sitting cross-legged.

Smiling, he stood, downing the rest of the glass of wine. "I'll probably have to ask you very nicely. Of course, I wouldn't hire you if it would hurt your career." He grasped her free hand, "Congrats again on moving into the apartment." He glanced around the room, acrylic paintings and photographs had been hung, and only two boxes (her clothes), had remained unpacked. "I'll see you soon."

Celine nodded, "Get home safe, okay?"

 

* * *

 

 

Later that night, Celine stood stood as Madame Peacock, on the rooftop of a nearby building. She was almost content, but patrol wasn't the same alone.

She heard the pattering of steps landing behind her, and her whole body turned back to look at him. "I…t-told you to leave me alone." She stammered. "I'll patrol the north side of Paris, you can take the south."

He held up his hands, "I don't want this to last longer than it has to, Peacock. I—I just wanted—"

"You said we weren't together anymore." She cut him off, speaking in a monotonous voice. Celine didn't shout, didn't betray her emotions, and did everything in her power not to cry. "You don't have the right to want anything from me."

"So you saw the interview?" He said weakly, "Peacock, I don't want to fight you. I want things to be okay between us and I'm standing here and I spent half of my patrol looking for you and now I'm here and I'm looking at you face to face for the first time in  _months_ and…" Trailing off, he sighed, "What can I do to make this right?"

Madame Peacock shook her head, "You're all over Paris. You're getting the attention you want and you're a better superhero than I am. Do you really want things to go back to the way things were?"

He started to walk towards her, the distance between them decreasing. "I want you in my life."

She stared him down, mildly amused now, "Why? You're not in love with me, right? You're dating a supermodel."

Hawkmoth physically staggered back, "Ha—Have you been stalking me?" His hurt was palpable.

"I've seen you two together while on patrol." Madame Peacock's voice was icy. "She's stunning."

"We're not dating. We work in the same field." He didn't sound particularly convincing, though. His feelings were clear.

 _He likes me._ Madame Peacock thought, _the bastard fell in love with me twice._ Not that she did too much to discourage him, but it was still surprising. Gabriel Agreste rarely likes anyone.

Her eyes narrowed, "How interesting." She stood, "Even so, your life is better without me in it."

"We've been partners for years, and me revealing my identity is the deal breaker, here?" He demanded, "Do you really think I'd pressure you into revealing your identity to me? Is that what this is about?"

She said nothing, staring at him intently, wondering if that was what it was. No, she actually just didn't like that it was  _Gabriel._ Of course, she had grown to like him over time, but she knew who he truly was, how he acted when he thought she wasn't looking. He was still the same designer that picked on part-time models.

His eyes widening, and as though he read her mind, he de-transformed. It was the same sweater she had seen earlier, something he had cable-knit himself during a movie they had watched several weeks before. "Is it me?" His voice was breaking, "You knew me as Gabriel Agreste, didn't you?"

His eyebrows pushed together, "Or do you still know me?" He knew he was right, "Who are you, Peacock?"

Madame Peacock sighed, "Gabe, listen here, if I'm anyone you know in whatever life you live, I wouldn't let you know."

Turning away, he shook his head, "I wouldn't want you to reveal your identity to me. What if I hated who you were behind that blue mask?" He didn't smile as he left.

He left her with those words.

 

* * *

 

 

Gabriel entered Fu's shop, every ounce of him dripped with anxiety. He had been avoiding Fu since Peacock and Hawkmoth had separated, not knowing what to say.

Fu was waiting, in the front room, Wayzz on his shoulder. "Long time, no see, Gabriel Agreste." He smiled, "Do you want to step inside?"

He followed his mentor into the backroom. "How's life without Celine?"

Tapping his heart, he answered, "She is always here, no matter where she goes. But you're not here to ask about Ms. Russo, are you?"

"No." Gabriel exhaled, his fingers dug into his palms, "I want to return my miraculous."

Nooroo immediately jumped out of Gabriel's sweater, "You liar! You said we were coming here to figure things out with Madame Peacock." His kwami looked legitimately heartbroken. “You can’t do this! I won’t you.”

He softened, his closest friend floated in front of him, and deserved an explanation. "I'm sorry, Nooroo, but I'm just not worthy of fighting crime. You deserve a miraculous user who can—"

"Enough." Fu held up his hand. Wayzz rested in Fu's arm, lending him strength. "I will not accept that you are unworthy of fighting crime, Gabriel."

"I can't do this." He told the old man, "Madame Peacock should work with someone new, someone who she doesn't loathe the sight of."

Fu frowned, "Everything is temporary, Gabriel. You must accept that no matter what you do, you will change as time goes on. You will evolve and metamorphose, and if you accept that your relationship with Madame Peacock has changed, you will also change into a hero she can forgive."

His shoulder's dropped, his posture failing him, "She will  _never_ forgive me. I revealed my identity to her and there was an intense fight and—"

"She's stubborn." Fu told him, "It must've been difficult for her. You must understand the sheer amount of attention that you dedicate to Madame Peacock on a day-to-day basis as Hawkmoth."

 _She doesn't like attention,_ of course, Gabriel knew this. It didn't really help, "Her miraculous."

"There's a strong disconnection between who she is and what her miraculous means.  _The same applies to you._ " Fu went even further, "I could blame myself for thinking that you two work well together, but I know that's not the case."

"I don't understand."

"You two have worked exceptionally well in the past. The best duo I've seen in all my years. I believe that one day you will work exceptionally well together again." Fu smiled, "Remember, everything is temporary, Gabriel Agreste. Madame Peacock will forgive you soon enough."

He nodded, "Thank you, Fu." Checking the clock, he turned, hoping not to be late for class.

"Wait." Wayzz's voice rang out. Gabriel stopped, looking back, when the kwami said, "Do not force change, it happens naturally, with patience and time."

Gabriel nodded, and was out the door and headed to class. In his second semester, at École des Beaux-Arts, he was thriving at the top of his class. Celine had left the studio at the full support of their instructor, and had been replaced by a blonde model who was close to her talent and beauty, but didn't meet the standards that Celine had set.

Today, he would be presenting a five-piece collection inspired by a Greek god or goddess of his choosing. It was going to be a runway that he would share with three other students and their respective collections, also inspired by classical antiquity.

He would be presenting Persephone, the flower-child-turned-queen-of-hell.  _How's that for a metamorphoses, Fu?_

Gabriel arrived on to the runway just in time for the show, and found the open seat next to Celine, the one person he had invited to attend. They were surrounded by several other students, their instructor, a couple models, one journalist, and two or three professional designers.

"How's it going?" He whispered to her.

Celine leaned over, "The reporter has been asking me what I'm doing here, can you imagine? I told him I modelled for a great designer who was presenting today." She giggled slightly.

He glanced at her, taking her in, she smelt like freshly cut flowers on a countryside kitchen table. "Remind me," Gabriel asked of her, "I want to talk to you after this about something."

She nodded, and her heart skipped beats.  _I can do this,_ she thought to herself,  _it's just Gabriel._ Celine often forgot that he was Hawkmoth. Well, that was easy, they seemed like two completely different people. But in the times that she had forgotten that he was her former partner-in-crime, he was agreeable, handsome, and funny.

The collection was of course, stunning, but Gabriel really didn't look at the designs he slaved over for the past month. He kept glancing back at her, trying to muster up his courage.

Celine gripped the hot coffee, standing next to him in the lounge outside the show. The reporter, actually, the same one who interviewed Hawkmoth, was pestering her.

"You're Celine Russo, so what's an up-and-coming model like you doing at the university?" She was young, and possibly a bit too eager, but knew that the blonde model would indulge her.

"Well," Celine pointed to Gabriel, who stood near her, "The first designer I modeled for was Gabriel Agreste in the fall. I've used his pictures in my portfolio and we've become good friends." For once she felt confident. Gabriel was standing by her, silently lending his support to the barrage of questions.

"So, since you're one of the hottest bachelorettes in Paris, I do have to ask—"

Gabriel's blood ran cold.

Celine's heart wouldn't stop racing.

"—are you two in a relationship? A rising fashion designer paired up with the rising supermodel? It's very romantic."

Gabriel flashed Celine a grin, and answered for the both of them, "No, we're just friends. If you'll excuse us, I'm due to escort Celine to a prior engagement."

"R-Right, thank you so much for you time." Celine told the reporter, while being quickly ushered out the door and into Gabriel's car. "Thank you for that," She murmured, her eyes downcast. "Though, I'm kind of hurt that you told her that we were just friends."

His hands gripped the steering wheel of the sports car. "I—oh! I actually wanted to talk to you about that." Gabriel grinned slightly,  _wow, a plan actually working out for me outside of designing, this is almost new._ "I wanted to tell you something."

Her hands rested in her lap, and her head turned slightly, so that she could watch the road and his face, she spoke to him in a cool tone, "Alright."

"I know that things didn't really start out easy with us, and that was largely my fault," Gabriel started, trying to keep the heat off of his face. Was he blushing? "But my feelings for you have changed in the past couple months and I want you to know that I really—"

"Gabriel."

Exhaling, he tried not to be annoyed that she interrupted him, "What?"

"I...I like you too, you don't have to be so nervous." She said softly, "I think it'd be splendid if we tried being more than just friends. "

His heart almost stopped on the spot. Celine Russo, currently considering one of the most beautiful in all of Paris, had told him that she had liked him.


	4. Against the Floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawkmoth tells Madame Peacock about his feelings for Celine. How is she supposed to handle this new information?

_First date,_ Gabriel thought,  _this can't be too difficult._

They had eaten out together before, strolled through the Louvre, gone to the park in the past. But now? Gabriel was overthinking, and had spent the better part of that week thinking of something for them to do.

"You know," She told him a few days ago, "You don't have to try to impress me on whatever date you're planning. Whatever we do, as long as we're together, right? It'll be fun."

He was jolted back to the reality of the gala being held in his and Madame Peacock's honor. He as Hawkmoth, was surrounded, by several of his old champions, as well as friendly reporters he had met over the years. Madame Peacock hadn't yet arrived. It was a lovely black-tie affair, with a string quartet, and an ambiance that screamed ‘rich and important’.

Gabriel dreaded the moment when she would arrive, knowing that she'd make the entrance of the century.

"Oh my god," said one of the reporters slyly, "Hawkmoth, did you know she'd arrive—looking like  _that?_ "

He glanced to where his group was staring, and suddenly, he knew that Madame Peacock's entrance would be nothing compared to the one he was originally expecting.

"No, actually."

Madame Peacock descended down the stairs in a turquoise-sequined dress, which clung to her body, slinking down to just above her knees. She wore standard black heels, high and mighty. She had on a peacock-feathered masquerade mask, and swept her hair to the side, as normal, while also weaving in several blue and green feathers in. There was no mistaking it, it was Madame Peacock in the flesh.

Hawkmoth's eyes widened, and he broke free of the group, weaving around Parisian socialites to meet her.

She looked at him coolly, and he realized he was staring. "H—hello, I didn't realize you'd be coming tonight," Hawkmoth stammered. "How have you been?"

"Well, I was invited. It's been a while, no?" Her eyes sparkled. "I've been well, Hawkmoth."

He took the entirety of her in, witnessing her for the first time as a civilian, "I didn't expect you to not come transformed."

She blinked at him, "I just thought it'd be pleasant to put on a nice dress and put on a dumb mask and enjoy this. My hair took awhile to tame, which is why I was a bit late." There was something incredibly nervous about the entire gala situation. All the people, watching her politely. Peacock didn't take her eyes off of Hawkmoth, knowing she'd be reduced to pieces if she looked around and met all the eyes staring her down.

She hadn't been very active around Paris in the past couple of months. Hawkmoth wouldn't catch a sighting of her for several weeks and then out of the blue, she'd appear. It was such a scandal through Paris, many wondered if she would even show up to the gala.

"Peacock…where have you been?" He murmured, "What's wrong? You can tell me if someone's threatening you."

"What are you talking about?" She squinted underneath the mask, searching for an expression on his face. He looked concerned, and it was genuine, but he also looked desperate.

"You don't go on patrols. You're not on the scene, and when you are, you get damaged. We—we may be separated but I can't be the only one saving Paris." He looked at her earnestly, pleading as though it were for his life, "We can go back to how things were. Just say when and things can be normal again."

He watched her mouth twitch, her shiny smile was cracking the façade she had created. "I have to go thank the mayor for inviting me. It was lovely seeing you, Hawkmoth."

She flitted through the crowd to the other side of the room, and he watched her go.

Mayor Bourgeois, and his new young wife, stood amidst reporters and friends as Madame Peacock approached.

"Ah, Peacock, you're here! Finally, we can start." The young, robust, brunette mayor told her.

"Actually, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to—" She began weakly. Madame Peacock wanted to leave, and she felt like everyone could tell.

"Nonsense!'

Pretty soon, her, Hawkmoth, and Mayor Bourgeois stood on a small stage in front of the massive glass windows that overlooked the Parisian skyline, and faced the huge stairwell that she had entered.

They stood on either side of the Mayor, amidst flashing lights and cameras. It was a

"Nothing fills me with greater joy," Bourgeois spoke into the microphone, "than to be able to stand by two of the greatest heroes of all time. Madame Peacock and Hawkmoth have been saving Paris since as early as 1989, and have continued to do so up until now, 1995. They have long-since embodied Parisian citizens, exemplifying teamwork and courage."

Hawkmoth sucked a breath in, wondering if the mayor was making a joke. Several guests chuckled mildly. He grinned slightly, and glanced over at Madame Peacock.

She was chuckling as well, trying to dispel her blatant stage fright.

"Madame Peacock and Hawkmoth are here today so that we may pay them tribute, and hope to repay them for all the work they've done for this city." Bourgeois looked between the two of them, "Madame, Hawkmoth, I'm proud to present to you both the key to the city!"

The crowd erupted into applause, and both heroes found themselves smiling from ear to ear. Madame Peacock hoped that no one could see her shaking, and Hawkmoth? Well, Hawkmoth liked the attention.

They both knew that they would have to make speeches. Hawkmoth gestured her to the podium, despite her blushing and pleading eyes.

She stood, gripping the sides of the podium, "Thank you, it truly is an honor."

Swallowing, she thought to herself,  _you can get through this._ Hawkmoth came to her frozen side, placing a small hand on her lower back.

He murmured into her ear, "You can do this, Peacock."

Jolting back into reality, she went on, "Hawkmoth and I were both fifteen when we started crime-fighting around Paris." Celine felt more brave, knowing that Gabriel was standing behind her, supporting her. "And honestly, I wouldn't trade this for anything in the world. I—I grew up homeless in Paris, and to be granted such a power that would allow me to stand in front of you all is truly an honor."

She swallowed, "Homelessness wasn't an issue until earlier this decade in France, and if being a superhero means that I can stand in front of Paris and speak for those who cannot, I will. Thank for this great honor."

The crowd erupted once again into applause, polite, if not a bit unnerved. These were the richest people in Paris being spoken to them about privileges that they did not quite understand.

Hawkmoth took the podium. He was suddenly humbled by the entire affair. It was being thrown for him, a man who had all the advantages that she didn't have. This was a party that Gabriel Agreste had also received an invitation for, but had to turn down. He felt his face pale, wishing he could retreat back into the shadows.

"T-Thank you, please enjoy the rest of the evening." He told the crowded room. Of course, under normal circumstances, it would be midday, in a public place, with a very public crowd, but the heroes had received their threats over the years, and they had jobs to maintain.

He placed his hand in Madame Peacock's hand, assisting her down the stairs. "What are you doing?" She demanded.

"If you fall down the stairs, I will not forgive myself." He promised her. "Besides, this celebration is for us, can't we pretend to be civil for just a few hours?"

Her eyes flitted to his, and she looked deeply into his sparkling blue eyes, trying to gauge his intentions.

He didn't wait for her response, instead, dragging her to the center of the room, where the dance floor was placed. It was well known that Madame Peacock and Hawkmoth were fine dancers, being invited out to several functions in the past. Tonight was no exception.

Hawkmoth taught her how to dance several years’ prior, of course, and Madame Peacock had enough common sense and rhythm to figure out the rest.

Waltzing across the floor, he could see the flash of guilt across her face, "I promise you, even if Celine knew that I was Hawkmoth, she wouldn't be upset over me dancing with you."

 _That's because I'm Celine,_ she smiled slightly, it was true, after all. "Fine, fine. You should introduce me sometime, though."

He shook his head, "It's difficult, you know?" He bowed.

She curtsied, and they began the waltz, "How so?" It was as though they were completely alone. They had both tuned out the extra chatter, and simply listened to the music.

He spun her out, and the came back, spinning in. "You know, I loved you from the moment I saw you, and now she's in my life, and I didn't think I’ve ever cared for someone so—so strongly." His breath caught in his throat. It was something he didn't realize himself until he was saying it to her. And now, he desperately wished that Celine had received an invitation to the affair, so that he could find her.

Madame Peacock was stunned, her face hot. "I'm…I'm happy for you."

Gabriel didn't smile of course, he could see the bewilderment in her eyes, "It's not that I don't still love you, but my love for you is out of admiration. I admire you. With Celine, I feel as though I might love her out of companionship. She's an amazing friend, she's smart, kind, loving. We're not perfect by any means, but she's perfect for me."

 _He's going to hate me when he finds out that I'm Celine, oh god, what have I done?_ Every part of her body suddenly felt the ache of guilt, her shoes weighed her down like bricks, her hands felt like cement. If she could crumple into a ball on the floor, she would.

"Y-you've given this a lot of thought." She stated, the song beginning to fade out. She heard the notes of the next song, a swinging rock hit, and decided to make her retreat. "I—I have to go, Hawkmoth."

"Wait, stay." He fell into step beside her, "Let's have a lovely evening, please."

Madame Peacock didn't say a word, heading up the stairs, ignoring everyone in her wake. He followed her up the stairs, quickly explaining that the pretty bird needed some fresh air. Paris had known the female superhero for almost half a decade, and knew her to be shy and introverted. People normally invited Hawkmoth out, and only extending the invitation to Peacock. It was just so _rare_ of her to show up anyway.

Once was in the hallway, she transformed. There was no point in staying in that beautiful dress. If her mask flew off, if he pulled it away. Everything in her was shaking, nervous that somehow, he knew.  _Why else would he say that to me?_

He stalled, "What's wrong, why did you—"

Peacock turned back to him, "No reason, I just. I shouldn't have come all dressed up, you know? Anyone could pull off my fake mask." She tugged at her true mask, it not budging an inch. "I just…it's not worth the risk. This party isn't my speed. I…I shouldn't have c-come. We s-shouldn't have danced. I s-should've stayed away from you from the beginning."

"You're jealous." He stated. It wasn't accusatory, it wasn't in mocking, it wasn't a question.

It was a statement of fact.

She raised her eyebrows, Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he could make out the words. "Me? Jealous? Of you?"

"Of her."

"I'm jealous of Celine Russo?" Her mouth was agape. There was no hiding the absolute shock on her face. "Me? The superhero? S-she's nobody important." She was trembling as she turned away from him, trying to conceal the cold tears that ran down her face. “She’s nothing.”

“Don’t. Don’t say that about her.” He pursed his lips, “She’s a really great person if you get to know her.”

Celine knew that she had made a mistake. She got close to Gabriel as Celine so that she may love him without having to give up her identity. What she didn't realize, however, was the pain that she would feel as his love for Madame Peacock died for her secret identity, someone who paled in comparison to the hero of Paris.

He glanced around, and he approached her, his face was against hers, and suddenly, before she had a chance to respond, he pushed her into a nearby coat closet. It was so incredibly fast. She saw the flash of light and closed her eyes.

He fiddled for a light switch, turning it on in a cramped room. She stared at Gabriel Agreste. "What? Can't stand to see me out of my superhero persona? Pull yourself together."

She sighed, her eyes gauging his, watching love die for her, or, his perception of her. "Gabriel?" She whispered.

"What?"

"Close your eyes."

He shut his eyes, and in a matter of moments, the light in the closet was off, and he could feel her de-transforming. In the next matter of moments, he could hear her taking off the masquerade mask.

His hands reached out to her, one hand encircling her waist and the other entangled in her hair. She leaned in closer, enveloping him into a kiss he had waited around five years for. Gabriel found himself kissing her back, until she leaned her forehead against his shoulder.

"Peacock, would it be so bad if I knew who you were? Would you be so miserable?" _Am I truly as awful as she thinks I am?_ He went on, "I know that now really isn't the time to ask that sort of thing but—"

"I  _like_ being invisible, Gabriel. If you knew, I—" She choked, "You really would hate me, you know? How I've acted—it's been unfair to you."

"Peacock." He stalled, "I'm going to turn on the light."

"Wait, no I'm not ready, I don't, I can't. Not like this."

He hesitated, "Not like what?"

"Not in a  _coat closet for christ's sake!_ "

"Tough."

He flipped on the switch, and took a step back. Gabriel looked at her, she was pale as a ghost. It was a face he knew.

His eyes widened, "I didn't understand why you were so angry when you found out that it was me. I get it now, I really, really do."

"A-are you mad?" Her face studied his carefully, his face was painted like a portrait. He didn't frown, or smile. It was of complete neutrality.

It was Celine Russo, after all. Whenever Gabriel interacted with her, he always tried to do so with a level head. He tried not to be one way or the other, and now, he tried his best to feel nothing at all.

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, "You know what? You took this situation with me being Hawkmoth so horribly, that I made a promise to myself a few months ago. I'm going to handle this better than you, Celine. I really am. And you know what?" Gabriel scowled, "I'm not going to mess with your emotions.  _At all. Unlike you, Celine._ "

"I messed with your emotions?" She huffed, shaking her head, and chuckling slightly. "You got what you wanted in the end! You're the one who fell in love with me twice, and to top it off, I revealed my identity to you. Isn't this what you wanted?"

 _Oh,_ he thought,  _you calculated vixen._ Gabriel shot her crooked smile, "I would fight with you. I really, really would, but that would require me to lose my cool, like you did, which I won't do."

Her eyes narrowed. "Youl bullied me when I modelled for you, and then you turned out to be my partner of five-years? Yeah, I lost my damn cool."

"I achieved perfection, didn’t I? My prints allowed you to continue on to be a successful model." He answered, not swayed by her words, "You don't have to thank me, Celine, but don't pretend like I didn't play a role in your new found success."

She was about to say something, her finger was raised, when he cut her off before she could speak.

"You're losing your cool." Gabriel frowned.  _Whatever you say or do,_ he thought to himself,  _don't hurt her. For God's sake, don't hurt her._ He stood before the woman he loved. A woman, who he realized, decided to love him as herself after she realized that he was Hawkmoth. The timeline of events were aligning, and he suddenly understood why Celine warmed up to Gabriel over time.

"Tell me whether or not your mad at me." Her eyes stared up at him, begging, "Tell me how you're feeling."

"I'm infuriated." He stated, plainly.

She stepped backwards, against the wall of the closet, and was about to spout out some sort of apology, when he held up his hand.

Gabriel exhaled, "You and I became incredibly good friends over the past couple months. And you didn't let on that it was you. Our friendship, that still wasn't enough? Of course, I'm upset, and naturally I'm going to make this about me, when I know that a lot of this is  _you_ , but goodness." He reached for her hand, holding it gently, "If I had known from the beginning, I wouldn't have treated you so harshly."

She looked down, suddenly feeling awash with guilt. "I probably shouldn't have—"

He shook his head, interrupting her for the umpteenth time. "No, please don't regret a thing. Yes, I'm mad, but how else should you have handled the situation? It's in the past." He sighed, and rolled his eyes at himself, "I wouldn't want you to be anyone else. I…I'm glad that you're you."

"So, what?" Celine laughed, "am I obligated to say the same to you?" She saw his face fall, "No! I mean—I guess as I've gotten to know you, I'm glad you're Hawkmoth. Really." Celine swallowed, knowing that she was being honest.

He nodded. "So, want to head back to the party?"

She shook her head. "I just want to get home. This has been a lot for me."

Celine pushed past him, emerging from the coat closet. He waited five seconds, and then came out as well, but she was already gone, escaped into the night.

 

* * *

 

 

She jolted up as he knocked on her door. Celine almost panicked when Pooki didn't move off her regular spot on the corner of the couch.  _Relax,_ she told herself. All she wore was a simple yellow sundress, and sandals, assuming that it was a casual date.

He wore a powder-blue dress shirt, brown trousers. Gabriel held up some Chinese takeout. "I'm sorry it's so minimal, work has been insane and I thought you’d like a night in."

"No, it's, perfect. Come in." She gestured him inside. "I'll get plates."

He set the takeout down on the small table between the kitchen and sofa. Gabriel watched her head into the kitchen to grab dishes, and wondered why he hadn't seen it before, thinking back to all the times when he should've realized that there was something incredibly different about her. He ticked off all the things he didn't notice.

Gabriel watched her fight off several muggers.

Gabriel never saw or heard of her having a workout schedule. Celine ate what she wanted, when she wanted, without consequences.

Gabriel knew she metabolized very quickly, and if he didn't feed her every two hours, she would get very cranky.

Gabriel watched her lift several boxes at once when she moved into her apartment, boxes that weighed twenty pounds each.

Of course, Gabriel was also capable of all of these things, but hadn't noticed that she was as well.

"What does your kwami like?" She called to him, "I went to the grocery store, so I might have something."

He peeked into his sweater, but realized that Nooroo was nowhere to be found.

"Croutons!"

Turning his head towards the couched, he noticed a small blue and turquoise kwami with a peacock tail sitting next to Nooroo in a nest of hard candy wrappers.

"Is that why you have the glass bowl of hard candies on the coffee table?"

"You better believe it." Said her kwami.

Celine laughed, bringing out two plates, silverware, and a bowl of croutons, "Please, don't mind Pooki. She placed the bowl next to the hard candy. "And who might you be?" She looked at the lavender colored kwami.

"I'm Nooroo, Celine! It's nice to finally officially meet the girl Gabriel's in love with!"

The kwamis burst into laughter as Gabriel turned beet red. She looked back at him, and turned back to set the plates down on the table, "That's Pooki, by the way. My kwami."

He nodded, and handed her a box, orange chicken, and took a box of his own, broccoli and beef. "There is another reason why I wanted to have dinner at home." He murmured, "About us."

She looked up at him, "What do you mean?"

"Let's get back together, as heroes." He took a bite out of his food, watching her reaction.

Celine stared back at him, almost in shock. It hadn't occurred to her that they'd be working together. In fact, she was surprised Gabriel didn't want her to stop being a superhero entirely.

"What? Why? We've been incredibly effective apart, you know." She teased him lightly, prodding at her own food.

"I mean,  _I've_ been effective, I don't really know about you, though."

Celine's eyes narrowed, "Okay, but at least my champion didn't attack me last month."

He gulped, "Oh god, I hope that never happens to me again." Gabriel looked at her, "What about you? You used your attraction powers in a hostage situation and then you became one of the hostages!"

They played back and forth, but both of them knew that they'd be going on patrol together soon enough.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a runaway metro train. According to the conductor, they had 11 minutes before the train would run into the caboose of the train ahead of it on the tracks. Peacock radioed ahead, telling the next train to speed up while the conductor worked to slow down.

Hawkmoth watched her as he tried to find a champion at the next train stop that could feasibly stop the train.

He was pulled out of his focus when Peacock turned to him, "Its no good. The train ahead can speed up but someone wired this train to constantly accelerate at an exponential rate. I'm going to use my power to lead the passengers to the caboose. I need you to declare the conductor—" She flashed a smile to the old man, who looked pretty nervous, "—your champion."

"Pea, by the time we stop the train, you'll need to de-transform—"

She was out of the front room of the train, effectively ignoring him, "Feathers out!"

The passengers were gripping the seats, cowering, when she shouted, "Alright, folks, we need to get to the back of the train, come on! Get moving." Her powers of attraction weren't necessary, but it would save time trying to convince the passengers to move.

Madame Peacock, knowing they would follow her no matter what, headed to the next car. Ten cars to go in five minutes. She'd have to be quick.

All of the passengers were able to fit into the last two cars of the subway. Her miraculous was beeping, and she forged back towards the front, trying to find a place to safely de-transform.

She felt the train being pushed to a stop, and, realizing a better solution, de-transformed, and slipped into the flooding crowd of train-goers heading towards the front of the tracks.

Hawkmoth stood in the front of the car, and when he found Celine in the crowd, weakly waving to him, he sighed in relief. His miraculous was beeping as well, and he flew off, setting to meet with her later.

Frowning, she realized her mistake of trying to blend in with the civilians, and it wasn't until several hours later that they actually got out of the metro cars and back into reality.

 

* * *

 

 

She rang the doorbell outside of the gate, waiting for Gabriel's voice over the intercom.

"Who is it?"

"It's me. Can you let me in before a reporter spots me?"

"Hmm…" His voice crackled through the intercom. "Gosh, I almost want you to suffer out in the heat of summer. Tell me, do you fly south for the winter?"

Her eyes narrowed, her voice was stone cold, "Listen, honey, I know all about your Madame Peacock fanboy collection and shrine, and I'd be happy to tell a reporter—"

The gate buzzed open, she stepped through, he met her at the door.

"You know if you wanted to see me, you could've just—"

"Hot bath. With bubbles. In five minutes." She growled, her eyes narrowed. Celine felt as though she reeked of subway metal and trash.

Gabriel's eyes widened, and an amused smile came across his face, "Alright, your majesty, come on up."

He heard her mutter something along the lines of,  _'damn straight I'm the queen,'_ but ignored her as he led her up the main set of stairs to his bedroom, the master suite.

His bedroom was mainly white's, with pops of bright colors, bright purple sheets under a white comforter, blue trim on the curtains. It was rather extravagant. The bathroom was a lot of white marble and copper trimmings.

"You can figure this out, you know." Gabriel told her, putting out a set of towels, lavender essences, and a bubble bath bomb.

She nodded, "Then kindly get out."

He shut the door behind her.

He sat in his bed, hand crocheting lace details for his next project. It was tedious work, but Gabriel knew he could finish a good portion of it tonight if he focused.

Her bath was relaxing. In all honesty, being interviewed by the police was taxing. She was paranoid that someone in the metro would notice that she wasn’t in the cars with them, but they all seemed casually oblivious. Of course, it was rather rude of Gabriel to leave without her, but what did he know, anyway?

"So, did you make this robe herself or did you buy it?" She startled him, standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

Jolting up, he looked at her, realizing that she was wearing  _his_ fleecy bathrobe, which was embroidered with several peacock feathers, as well as her logo over the breast. Her hair was relatively damp, and hung in towel-dried strands around her face. "I—I have a spare change of pajamas, if you, would like. O-or I could call you a cab?"  _What am I saying?_ His tongue felt as though it were twice its usual size, and his eyes felt like they would burst out of his head.

She trailed over to him, and climbed onto the bed. Plucking the lace out of his hands, and also moving the magnifying glass out of the way, Celine stared at him, before going in for the kill.

His hand cupped her face, gently under her chin, and he could feel her blush coming on. Of course, he was also blushing. He leaned up, reciprocating. Needless to say, Celine stayed the night.

Gabriel's robe looked stunning on her, but it was far more stunning thrown against the floor.


	5. To Be Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celine is trying her best to cope with the rise of her own celebrity, and luckily, Gabriel is there to distract her.

 Chapter 5: To Be Perfect

"Oh my god." She held her one hand over her face, and with the other, she gripped Gabriel's hand harder, pulling him into the coffee shop they had just passed.

"What, what's wrong?" His glanced back, peeking at a reporter, hiding behind the bushes. "Oh, is it honestly that big a deal?"

Celine smiled, leading him behind the counter, past the kitchen, and out the alley door, ignoring the protests as they stepped into the alley. "I'm sorry, I just really don't prefer cameras and pictures, you know that."

He frowned, "Celine, you and I are the hottest couple in all of France. It'll be fine."

"Maybe for you," She murmured, weaving up to the next block, "You're absorbing the attention." Celine pointed to him accusingly, "Arranging interviews, photoshoots, holding dinner parties. You're becoming a social _Papillion,_ no?"

He followed, weaving around the alleyway, "Well, yes, I suppose you could say that." Gabriel caught her, spinning her back to him, and purring into her ear, "Of course, a social butterfly is nothing with a peacock."

Chuckling slightly, she looked at her watch. "We have an interview in thirty minutes, sweetheart."

"I'm sure that Madame Peacock and Hawkmoth could get there on time." He prodded her arm. Gabriel knew it was a longshot. Her fame had skyrocketed; her face was plastered throughout Paris. She couldn't just _slip away_ anymore.

She shook her head, "You transform. Get there before me and tell them that I've been sick all morning and will be arriving shortly. I'll call a cab."

He slumped, and she winked at him, murmuring, "I'm sorry, my love, it's just how it goes now. My assistant Nathalie has gotten me a lot of publicity and with that comes a price." She kissed him on the cheek, leaving him as breathless as usual, and quickly exited the alley, calling a taxi almost immediately.

Nathalie stood by the producers of the late night show, eyeing Gabriel Agreste as he approached. She pushed her long, black hair behind her eye, and adjusted her glasses, "Where's Celine? She's going to be late."

He glanced around nervously, it was still weird, Celine having a fully-capable assistant, working for her to obtain interviews, organize photoshoots, and schedule with a gym-trainer and nutritionist. "I—I'm sorry, Nathalie, she's was little sick this morning, she'll be here soon."

The assistant began to make a note in a black leather-bound book, "I guess I'll have to arrange a doctor's appointment, then."

"No! No, that won't be necessary, I'm sure." Gabriel stammered.

Sighing, she smoothed down her burgundy pencil skirt, and told him, "Don't lie to me about Celine being sick. I'm her assistant, not her parent, Gabriel. Remember, it is my job to come up with a better excuse for her tardiness."

He was struck by her, suddenly reminded of what he once told Celine about fashion design, he smirked at her, and answered coolly, "If you ever need a job, Nathalie, you have one with me and my company."

"What company?" Celine retorted, he turned. She held up a compact, applying a coat of translucent powder over her skin. "You're fledging start-up hasn't gotten off the ground yet."

Gabriel saw Nathalie smirking, and he swallowed, realizing that these two women should never be alone in a room with him. "Ms. Russo, will you be ready with the hour?"

She quickly brushed on her eyebrows, and applied a coat of mascara. "Pass me lip balm, and I'll be right as rain."

Gabriel Agreste and Celine Russo sat on a couch, the hot halogen lights illuminating their skins. The interviewer turned towards the camera, and Celine put on her game face. She sat closest to the camera, to the left. It was a late night show.

"And we're back!" Alec Cataldi said to the camera, "As promised, we're here with new fashion designer Gabriel Agreste and the always-lovely supermodel, Celine Russo." He grinned to the camera, and turned to them, "So, you guys have been dating for some time now, is that right?"

"Six months now, right?" Gabriel looked to her. She sparkled, and he was truly in awe of her. Celine had come out of her shell and blossomed into a bubbly young woman.

She was glowing, "I really don't keep track of how long we've been an item."

Alec nodded, "And Celine, I've heard you've got a good impression of Gabriel here,"

"Oh, yeah, it's pretty great." Celine blushed, "I've got it down. He does an okay impersonation of me."

"Well what else is she supposed do during fittings?" Gabriel was chuckling, "Well are you going to impersonate me now?"

She sat up straighter, and snatched his glasses off his face, placing them on her face. The audience had a good laugh. "Celine, my muse, I need you do me a favor and model my upcoming spring collection. It's got you written all over it." It was actually a good impression, her voice was deep and menacing, and she grinned at the audience and at him.

He donned his impression of her, and began to count off his finger, "Well, Gabe-y," He batted his eyelashes, and she was sent into a fit of giggles, "We'll just have to see, because although I would love nothing more to model for you, I have this shoot coming out, and after that, I'm starring as a Bond girl, and after that I have to water my plants. We'll just have to see, really, baby."

Alec's eyes crinkled, "Celine, is this true?"

She shook her head, "I always put off modeling for Gabriel. We always end up fighting on set."

"No, that's not true." He snickered, "Celine is completely professional, but modeling takes its toll on you."

"It's like," She glanced at the audience, talking directly to them. "Okay. This is what modelling is like, I work out every day, and I come back to my apartment to make dinner and I invite Gabe over. We have tiramisu afterwards, because when you don't have photoshoots, you may as well spend the whole day making tiramisu. He says nothing during dessert, right? He loves the tiramisu."

Gabriel's eyebrows raised, "I have a sweet tooth, forgive me."

"So, the next day I'm on set. I'm sitting still for three hours straight getting my hair and make-up done, and I'm restless. Gabriel is getting the photos he wants, but he's very particular, so we take a lunch-break because he's Gabriel and if you don't feed him, well...And then, I'm really frustrated right? I want to keep taking pictures and get the shoot done. And at the most inopportune time, he comes over to me." Celine giggled, "And he says, 'We would probably be done by now, but you had the tiramisu last night for dessert."

The audience died of laughter.

"So tell, me, you guys are listed in Paris's society magazine as the second hottest couple in Paris—"

Gabriel and Celine both tried not to look nervous, they chuckled lightly. They both sat on a loveseat, and he decided that in this situation, it would be best to put his arm around her shoulder. It would look domestic, adorable, and maybe it would calm her machine-gun heart.

"—Behind, surprisingly enough, Hawkmoth and Madame Peacock." Andre grinned, "What do you guys think?"

Celine smiled, "Well, I mean, props to them, you know? Schedules are so difficult as is, I couldn't imagine trying to fight crime, lead a normal life, and have a relationship with my superhero partner."

"Well, if they new each other's secret identities," Gabriel teased, "it'd probably be easier."

She smirked, "But wasn't it Madame Peacock who said in an interview—"

"The one interview she did?" Andre cut it, "That was in 1990!"

Gabriel laughed, "I mean, yes, Peacock said that they would never reveal their identities to each other, however," _perfect, we can get back on track here,_ he glanced over to her playfully, "things change. You know, Celine used to hate me."

"No way."

"I still do, Andre." Celine smiled.

They sat in his car, "That went really well," He told her, "I think the world will love you."

"I'm sure they'll love you too." She told him.

He stopped in front of her apartment, and she leaned over to kiss him. It was about past midnight. "Have a good night," Gabriel told her, his heart pounding against his dress shirt and tie, "I love you."

Her eyes crinkled at her smile, "I love you too. I have a date with my gym trainer, and a meeting with my nutritionist, but other wise, I'll be free for patrol."

"That'd be perfect." He answered, feeling a pang of empathy. Gabriel didn't have to go through the motions of visibly working on his figure, or get an assistant that would be scrutinizing his flaky schedule. Celine had to be more careful now, and it took its own toll on her, in its own way.

She stepped out of the car, luckily, there were no cameras today. Celine headed up to her apartment. She was content, and before she went to bed, she immersed herself into one of her old anthropology textbooks, imagining a simpler life.

Needless to say, Celine's fame skyrocketed. In a matter of months, she couldn't go anywhere without cameras. Even visiting Fu was becoming a hassle, and she could only see him in the dead of night. Celine had to hire a security guard, who served as a guard to her, as well as a driver. She sparkled in the sun, and her pictures were everywhere, her autograph was valued into the thousands overnight.

The model never liked the attention, and there was no use pretending that she did. Photoshoots were one thing, they were scheduled, _planned._ The paparazzi, the impromptu questions, the random interviews and television spots and gallery openings and philanthropy dinners, they were sporadic. There was a rarely a moment when she didn't feel like she was constantly being watched. Celine Russo was truly one of the most famous women in all of France, and definitely in all of Europe.

Celine did her best to get used to it, but when she found herself being tailed once again, she wished her security guard was there with her. Typically, Roger escorted her and Gabriel to social functions, and now she knew he'd have to follow her everywhere.

Her face was flushed as she approached the woman at the counter, a Chinese woman with a fresh wedding ring, and dark hair. Her face was smattered with flour, and she grinned widely at the model, "Welcome to Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. What can I get you?"

She heard the door ring open again, and knew it was the paparazzi. Before she could say a word, the man she assumed to be Tom, stepped from behind the counter. He was a French man, with a bushy moustache and loveable round belly. "I'm sorry sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Celine shook her head, "That's not necessary, I assure—"

"Nonsense," Sabine said, through a smile, "This man followed you into our bakery, and we won't tolerate _anyone_ harassing our customers."

Turning around, Tom was nodding, "Please, come back another time, sir."

"But—" The pap responded.

Everything inside her was frozen, and she wondered why she was unable to face this cameraman, or anyone with a camera. She was jostled back into place when she heard the man make his exit. "T-thank you."

Tom and Sabine smiled sympathetically, and Sabine offered, "We have a phone upstairs, if you'd like to call someone."

After introductions, Sabine led Celine, who was dumbstruck by the kindness of strangers, up the stairs. She was munching on shortbread cookies, which Tom had given her at his insistence.

"How long have you two been married?" She asked, almost excited. Celine had a special place in her heart for married business partners.

Sabine smiled, "Oh, just a few years, dear. It's gone by so quickly. What about you, have anyone special?"

"I do." Her eyes fell to the phone, "Is this one alright?"

The baker's wife nodded, "Feel free to wait here until you friend comes, okay?"

Celine nodded, "Thank you so much, I promise that I'll repay your kindness."

"Nonsense!" Sabine shook her head, "You don't have to lift a finger, I assure you." Sabine slipped back downstairs before Celine could protest.

She dialed the number of her driver and security guard, Roger. "Hey, it's me. I got cornered in this bakery and I need a ride." Celine relayed the directions.

Soon enough, Celine sat in the back of a small black sedan, and started to head home.

Home was, now, The Agreste Mansion. Gabriel asked her to move in after a paparazzi moved into the apartment across from hers, and they both agreed that the privacy would allow them to continue to be superheroes, see each other more often, and avoid the cameras that Celine despised.

Nathalie waited in the main room, grasping her planner, and Celine's gym bag, "You have an appointment with your gym trainer in twenty minutes."

She smiled, taking the bag out of Nathalie's hands. Fortunately, there was a gym in the basement of the mansion that Gabriel had installed. "I'll be downstairs then, thank you, Nathalie."

Celine suppressed a complete frown when her trainer arrived. He was a lean, dark man, with almost black hair, and an otherwise positive demeanor, but she really didn't need him.

The trainer got her onto a treadmill, where she ran. And ran. And ran. Celine ran a five-minute mile, which was pretty disappointing for her. In her superhero suit, she could run a mile in under 3. Her run time had decreased as the training continued on for months, but she still felt the urge to push herself.

"Celine, are you sure you need me to train you?" Alvin asked her, "I'm pretty sure in the entire time I've worked for you, you've never broken a sweat."

She huffed, still running, "Well, if I stop working out, which I definitely will, I'll lose all of the endurance I've built up."

He shook his head, "Let's just get to the weights, princess."

Alvin, when he first put her on the bench press, was incredibly impressed, upping her weigh to almost 200 pounds. Now, he spotted her, looking mildly annoyed at her ability to bench 250 without a problem.

Celine couldn't be bothered to regularly pretend that she struggled with her workouts, but she did say, "I have improved though, in the past couple months."

He smiled slightly, and she continued her set.

Gabriel was in the laundry room of the basement, hand washing his hand-woven sweaters. He never trusted the staff to launder his clothing. He could hear Celine working out in the room next door, and he rolled her eyes at the banter between Alvin and Celine.

She brushed past the door, peeking back, heading into the small laundry room, "I didn't realize you did your own laundry."

"I can do some things." He murmured. "You smell like gym. Go shower."

Celine pouted, and went to kiss his cheek, but he crinkled his nose and pulled away. She cooed, "Aw, Gabe-y, you're so mean to me." She turned, and headed out the door, up to the master suite to shower.

She was in the rain shower, when she heard knocking on the door, "Hey, it's me," Gabriel told her. "The alarms in the Louvre have set off. They're gonna need us."

Popping out of the shower, she immediately transformed. Luckily, her hair would be dry by the time the two of them got there.

Her sunshine hair was dry, but it was a mess. Hawkmoth handed her a scrunchie, but there was little to be done about taming the lion's mane that was her hair.

"The art thief is hiding somewhere in the gallery." A police officer sighed, "We'd send in dogs, but—"

"Pet dander breaks down art paintings, I got it." Celine told the officer, "We're on this. Hawkmoth, let's go."

"He's also armed with several smoke bombs." The cop urged them, "Be careful."

She opened the door to the underground gallery. Smoke was everywhere, but her lungs were strong. Hawkmoth was about to follow her, when she removed her cape of peacock feathers, fanning away the smoke from her. "Okay, come down."

He coughed slightly, "I should declare a champion and clear this smoke down."

Peacock shook her head, and dropped to the ground, trying to get under the smoke. "It's too dangerous. We have good lung strength, but someone else? I don't think so."

"Still, there is something I can do." He told her, "I have several thousand butterflies at my disposal, you know."

Hawkmoth let out the butterflies from almost every crevice of him, and the little white creatures cleared out a majority of smoke, driving the smoke out of the room.

"I can't use my power if I can't see him, or he can't see me." She started peering around objects. "At least there's only one exit, right?"

He smiled, and started to check closets, and hidden doors. The gallery was beautiful, the walls looked like they were painted with gold, the red walls contrasted well the hero's color palette. "This is awfully romantic, you know."

"Yeah, you've taken me on dates here before." She muttered, "We need to focus."

Gabriel glanced over to her, "He's not going anywhere."

"Use your butterflies to find him, then." Celine replied shortly.

He laughed, "I guess I know better than to let hero-work get between you and drying your hair." Gabriel released the butterflies from wrangling the smoke, and pretty soon, he knew exactly where the thief was.

Hawkmoth took her hand, shielding him, as approached the door that the thief was hiding behind. Thrusting the door open, the found him. "You're out of smoke bombs," The hero picked the tiny man up by the collar, "And you've tried my patience long enough."

Madame Peacock placed her hand on his shoulder, "Hawkmoth, don't be extraneous."

"I had plans, Peacock." He glowered, "This man got between me and the woman I love."

* * *

Late that night, he brought her to the restaurant where they had lunch that first time. He reflected on her, the nervous, shy model, and him, the overbearing student designer. Gabriel stood outside. It was closed. He clutched the small, velvet box in his coat pocket with his right hand. The trench coat slicked off the rain well enough.

"It's the thought that counts, though." Celine told him sweetly. Her hair was sticking in almost a thousand directions, her make-up all washed away. "You know, when you first took me here, I hadn't eaten anywhere nicer. And now, I'm here with more money that I know what do with. A lot has changed." Her hand took his, her other held an umbrella. "It's been a good change, for the most part."

"I just wanted this night to be perfect." Gabriel frowned.

She laughed aloud, her laughter a song he wished that he could hear forever. Still, he was confused. Gabriel would never completely understand this blonde girl who stood beside him, and he was content in knowing that. He didn't love her for her mysterious sense of humor, or her guarded past, but he respected her level of self-awareness. Celine knew that her sense of humor wasn't one that most understood, and that talking about her past made her comfortable, and that she would always fight with Gabriel after a photo shoot and make up later.

"What, why are you laughing?"

She leaned her head on his shoulder, "You and I, will we ever be perfect together? The two of us strive for perfection in our work. Being heroes, modelling, designing. You and I? Why do we have to try and be perfect together? I love you as you are. I love us. I don't care if it's raining. I don't care if the restaurant is closed, Gabriel."

"You mean that?" Gabriel chuckled, "All of the fighting during photoshoots, all the teasing and snark. That's what you want?"

"I want you." She stated, glancing over at him, gauging his reaction. Celine felt so warm, despite the pattering of rain on her, he was her hearth, the source of her warmth, and her home.

He turned so that he was facing her, his face hot. Gabriel pulled the box out of his coat pocket, "Marry me, Celine." He opened the box, revealing an antique wedding ring. "Please say yes."

Grinning, she said yes, hoping they could elope without having a huge, over-the-top affair.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and Celine power's have developed over time, relationships take a sharp turn, and an accident shakes the family.

Gabriel and Celine power's have developed over time, relationships take a sharp turn, and an accident shakes the family.

* * *

Chapter 6: The Peacock Curse

 

If she could go back in time, she wouldn't have let Fu convince her to give modelling a try.

If she could go back in time, she wouldn't have quit University.

If she could go back in time, she wouldn't have signed Gabriel's contract.

Celine swallowed, this wasn't a good time to be regretting things. She stood outside Gabriel's office, clutching the contract in her hands, newly-annotated with red pen and yellow highlighter. How could she have been so foolish? She hadn't told Fu yet what Gabriel had done, her shame getting the best of her.

It was perhaps two months after Adrien was born, and she sat with him in his nursery, when entered, looking as happy as a new father could be. He was returning from saving Paris, yet again. They had been taking turns now, not quite ready to leave their newborn son with a nanny.

Adrien was sleeping away in his crib, holding a sleeping Pooki between his fingers. Nooroo soon joined the crib. It took both kwami a day to realize that they liked spending time with Adrien in the nursery.

He came behind her, massaging her shoulders. "How was saving Paris?" She murmured.

"It was good, I keep telling people that Madame Peacock and I are fine, we're just rotating shifts. Nothing major, but there's something I want to discuss with you." He took a large contract out of his back pocket, "It's an employment contract."

Her eyes widened, she turned back to look up at him, "I don't need this, I'm a model, Gabe."

"I know. This is a signed guarantee, however. My modelling agency has been largely successful, along with my fashion company." Gabriel smiled, "This is just a piece of paper that guarantees that until Adrien turns 18, you'll always work for my company in some capacity. As a model, as a consultant, anything, really. You'll never be out of a job."

"I don't understand why I need this." She tried not to raise her voice, and realized that there was a specific reason as to why they were speaking about this in front of the baby. "I'll only be able to model your designs."

"Not true. You'll work for my modelling agency. All my models model for me, as well as my competitors." Gabriel kneaded her shoulders once more as she turned back. "You'll still get the same level of work that you've always been getting, darling."

"But you'll have a portion of every dollar I make." Celine scowled, seething at her husband. "I don't need you to get work, I never have."

"No. The money is going to Adrien, in a trust for when he turns 18." Gabriel responded smoothly. "We're heroes, Celine. If something were to happen to me, my design company would be divided amongst my top staff. My modeling agency is mostly autonomous. If something were to happen to me, _you would be provided for. Our son would be provided for._ "

She swallowed, _he has a point._ "Alright, Gabriel. Hand over a pen."

"You sure?"

"So long as I'm alive, my son will never want for anything." She answered, her voice low. Adrien still slept.

Gabriel smiled, and kissed her forehead innocently, "This really is the best move for your career. Fame is fleeting, and you won't know if you've reached your peak until you've passed it."

"We're on the same team, always." She answered, grinning.

* * *

Celine wiped a tear off her face, and momentarily stalled, composing herself. She opened the door.

"You can do this." Pooki peaked out of her blazer. The kwami had resumed to hiding once more. Adrien was old enough to remember now. Gabriel 

Gabriel was sitting on the sofa in front of a coffee table. Adrien, four, sat by his side. He had several dozen swatches meticulously organized on the table. "This one, Adrien, is emerald, and that one's chartreuse, this is a hunter's green, often confused with a military green. However, military green has a more yellow, warm undertone, whereas hunter's green has cool undertones." He looked up at her, smiling slightly.

"Mamam!" Their son perked up, immediately escaping Gabriel, running to her and hugging her legs. "Green is my favorite color!"

"What shade of green?" His father asked, genuinely curious, but coming off as rather commanding.

Adrien looked down at his shoes, unsure, and Celine patted his head, "You can like every shade of green, if you want to." She flashed her eyes to Gabriel, and he frowned, knowing that exact expression. Celine bent down to his level looking him in his round, soft face. "Adriikinns, I heard a rumor, that if you go to the kitchen, you can ask them _very_ politely if they'll teach you how to make any food you want, and they'll show you, okay?"

His face lit up, "Really?"

"Really." Celine opened the door, ushering him out the door, "I'll be there soon to help. Be good, alright, my love?" Luckily, she warned the kitchen that the tiny Agreste child was coming.

Gabriel was gathering up the swatches of fabric. He went behind his desk, placing them in a drawer. "What do you have there?" He gestured to the stack of papers clutched in her right hand.

Her eyes narrowed, "My contract, Gabriel."

He chuckled, "That old thing? Goodness. What a flashback." Gabriel stood behind his desk, not breaking a sweat. He could feel her, sense her anger brimming at the edge of the glass, not quite spilling over. His wife still had hope, he could tell, that there was some sort of understanding.

Celine was in front of his desk in less than a second. She dropped it on top of his sketchbook, his keyboard, his everything. He looked down, just now seeing the red annotations, the post-it notes. The highlighted text. "You let me sign this." She said through gritted teeth.

Picking up the contract, he leafed through it, realizing that no stone was left unturned. "I didn't know you hired a lawyer." _Screwed. I'm screwed. She's going to rip me apart._

"How could you do this, Gabe?" Celine accused him, "You have final signature on all of my contracts. I want to retire, Gabe."

"Well, I do own the modelling agency you work for, so obviously I'm going to disagree with you retirement." He answered. "And you signed this of your own free will, Celine. I didn't coerce you, or force your hand."

Celine's hands gripped the desk, "But I would've thought, as your wife, you would be looking out in my best interests. I didn't think for a second that you'd hand me a contract that would sign a good portion of my adult-life away. I would've thought you'd keep business out of our family."

"You were signing a modelling contract, if you couldn't be bothered to read it, well," He sighed melodramatically, "Is that really my fault? A majority of my models are under the same contract with you."

"All of my money either goes to Adrien, or to our joint-bank account. We signed a pre-nuptial agreement." Celine fired back at him, infuriated, "If we were to divorce for any reason, half of my hard work, half of my suffering under the limelight, half of my struggle goes to you."

Gabriel shook his head, "My company has been on a steady rise thanks to you, Celine. The income you've generated has gotten me more investors, more clients, and more success." He winked at her, "You making more money than me? That's temporary, sweetheart. So, by the time we _were_ to divorce, god forbid, you would get half of my money as well."

He softened, seeing how infuriated she was. Gabriel could sense her, feeling that her anger, although directed at him, was largely directed to herself. _She must feel like a fool._ "This is temporary. I'm sorry if I've worked you too hard. This contract may be stifling, but it's still for the best."

Her cheeks grew hot. "You're an ass."

"I know."

"You're capitalizing on my success, the effects of my miraculous, using me to make your company appear stronger than it is."

"I know. It's working."

She twisted the knife, "You're overworking me so that I can't even use my miraculous, you know. When was the last time I got to save Paris, or the two of us?" Celine shook her head, "I can hardly go outside without cameras, and fans, and attention, Gabriel. It's like I'm the queen or something." She paused, looking away from him, "It's like, no matter what I do, I will always be the center of everyone's attention."

Gabriel nodded, feeling the storm of fury inside her dying. "I know. I'm sorry, I should've been more sensitive to your powers." He suppressed a groan, "Celine, there's something you should know about my miraculous."

She stepped back, looking up momentarily at her portrait behind her before glancing over to him. "What?"

"I...You know how I can sense people emotions when I use them as my champions?" Gabriel didn't want to tell her this in the slightest, "A couple months ago, I started being able to do that without transforming. I can just, focus in on an area, or person, and gauge almost exactly how they're feeling."

"No you can't. You're perceptive, you've always been." Celine chucked, "I mean, you see me, Adrien, Nathalie, and your employees every day of the week, of course you'd learn how they just naturally feel over time."

"Fear." He said.

Celine stopped laughing, her eyebrows furrowed, "Fear? Is that what I'm feeling? What am I afraid of?"

Gabriel sighed, focusing more on the aura she let off, "You're afraid that this will explain why you can never escape the paparazzi, and why you're so inexplicably famous and desirable. You're afraid that I'm confirming your worst suspicion, and that no matter what you do, nothing will change."

She looked away, downcast. "How long have you known?"

"I didn't know until it happened to me. I'm sorry, I should've guessed that the same thing would be happening to you." Gabriel observed, "I think it's just a long-term effect, right, Nooroo?"

Nooroo peeked out his drawer, filled with croutons, "Right-o, buddy!"

Pooki flew out of the blazer, getting into Gabriel's face, "So, you knew, this entire time, that she magically got a lot of attention, purposely worked her more, so that'd she'd get more attention, and amplify my magic? Uh-uh, you do not get to use my charge, my magic, and my—"

"Pooki, it's fine." She held back her kwami by her three-pronged tail. "I'll just ask my boss—"

"I'm not your boss." Celine had several bosses to go through before she hit him. He was her boss's boss's boss's boss. 

Celine twittered, "I'll ask my _h_ _usband_ if he would consider scaling back my photoshoots, so that I could spend more time with my _family,_ and so that I could do my job spreading good around Paris." Celine looked at him, "I wonder if I'm granted the powers of persuasion."

He paled, "I wouldn't know. In all honestly, Pooki?"

"Yeah, like I'm going to tell you."

The kwami's eyes narrowed, and Gabriel could feel the kwami's emotions for the first time, and realized just how much Pooki disliked him. He cleared his throat, wondering if Pooki told Celine about how she felt. "Right," Gabriel nodded, he glanced at a copy of the day's schedule, on his desk, "You have a fitting—"

"I know." Celine cut him off, "Adrien has a recital the same day as the shoot. I had to tell Marc that I couldn't do it."

His eyebrows furrowed, "That was an important contract. His collection is supposed to be phenomenal. Furthermore, the agency is going to be furious when they find out."

"I'll catch the next one." She smirked, "And besides, you already established that no matter what I do, I will be adored by my fans, by the paparazzi, and by the companies who want me to model for them."

Celine kissed him on the check, her satisfaction palpable. He could peel back the layers of her emotions, but he didn't give himself away. She knew she had won. _Acknowledging her powers was a mistake._ "I have a business call, with all respect, darling, get out."

She winked, _Checkmate, baby._ She brushed his arm, "Alright, Gabe. Have a lovely day, I'll see you at dinner." Celine slipped out the door, feeling fairly successful with herself.

"Pooki, I think we did it."

"I'm proud of you!" Pooki whispered back, "Now you can spend time saving Paris and being with Adrien."

She nodded, "I backed him into an airtight corner, didn't I?" Celine headed across the hall, towards the kitchen. _It'll be nice to finally get some peace and quiet._

Of course, this was rather short-lived. Adrien was covered in flour, and several cooks were trying their best, but he was a clumsy mess. He looked at her, his eyes widening, his whole body was wracked with the guilt of a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

She smiled at him, "It's alright, kitten, the flour washes off. Papa isn't going to be upset with you." Celine glanced to the cooks. They looked devastated over the mess the tiny tornado had caused. "Please, take the afternoon off. Thank you all for watching my son. Don't worry about the mess, okay?"

"There's a cake in the oven, ma'am, we can wait."

"I can take a cake out of the oven, I assure you. Go home, spend time with your families." She looked at them, "Don't tell Gabriel, if he asks."

The three cooks nodded, making their exit through the side entrance of the house. She turned back towards Adrien, who sat on a stool, staring up at her with big, green eyes.

"What kind of cake did you make?" She peered into the oven, checking the time.

"Elephant cake!" He giggled, "It's gonna look like an elephant mamam!"

She nodded, staring at the large round cake, _I'll make this work for you, I promise._ "Amazing! You'll be the in-house baker."

Gabriel found them both in the kitchen when he realized that dinner was a half-hour late. Celine was helping Adrien ice the carved elephant, both of their faces covered in frosting. She had finally gotten him to use a small butter knife to ice the cake when he sat down with his sketchbook and pencil.

"No-no, Adrien, keep going, you're perfect." Gabriel told his son, as he drew the two of them in light graphite. "It looks delicious."

"Are you sketching us?" Celine dabbed purple icing on his cheek.

"My face isn't a cake, you know. Icing doesn't go there." He grumbled, quickly capturing her features. He was an efficient portrait drawer. It was easier than drawing out the folds of fabric, after all.

She dabbed another lavender dot, this time, on his nose. "Gabriel, come on. I'll get the camera. You're on icing duty." She handed him a frosting spatula, rushing out of the room to grab Gabriel's camera out of his office.

He sighed, shaking his head at Adrien, "Don't do even think about it, kiddo. I have superhero reflexes."

Adrien smiled, "Okay papa!"

Gabriel kept his eyes on his son, as he happily smoothed purple icing onto an elephant shaped cake. They sat at a small, wooden table that was fairly light in color, but covered in flour. There was quite a mess that they'd have to clean up.

"Okay guys, look at the camera!" Celine smiled.

It was at this point, when Gabriel looked away from Adrien, the he placed a large gob of icing on his father's cheek. Gabriel started to laugh, "Adrien, why?"

"Cause you're sweet, and sweets get icing."

"My fault, Gabriel. Party foul." She snapped more photos, "Though, these are really nice on camera. Purple has always been your color."

Gabriel sighed, smiling, his blue eyes sparkling. "Egh. I'm old. you're the model, we should take pictures of you and Adrien."

"We're the same age, old man." She grumbled.

This was a memory that Gabriel would always treasure.

* * *

"Don't over-rehearse, mon cherie." She wore a simple green lavender wrap dress. Adrien looked up from at her, sitting at the piano, studying his sheet music. It was the day of the recital. Gabriel wore one of his hand-knitted sweaters. The young boy would prefer watching his father knit than perform at the recital. 

"Okay." The four-year-old hadn't sounded so sure. His papa had told him to keep practicing he could play it perfectly with his eyes closed.

"It will be wonderful as is." She said him. "You've worked so hard. The recital is in thirty minutes, and we will be proud of you no matter what."

Gabriel nodded, "That's right, Adrien. Come on, we have to get to the car."

They piled into the small, black sedan. Gabriel drove, at Celine's request, it was a strictly-family affair. Adrien's tutor had several other students as well, and only parents were coming. Celine sat in the backseat, diagonally across from Gabriel. She was next to her son, who was a bundle of nerves.

She didn't have to look up to know that they were being trailed by a paparazzi in a car. Hell, she recognized that car, at this point. "Gabriel."

"I know," he murmured, "I think I can lose him at this light."

"It's going to turn yellow." She glanced up, the car was nearly tailgating them. Her palms were sweaty.

"I can make it."

Gabriel didn't make it. Stopping at the red light, he let out a groan not unlike a golden retriever. _You never learned how to drag race, anyway, Hawkmoth,_ he told himself.

"Thank you." She murmured, watching Adrien play with one of his stuffed animals, the blue peacock that Gabriel had made for him last Christmas. "Adrien's in the car, after all. It won't spoil the afternoon."

"Agreed." Gabriel said. "Still, it would've been nice for once."

Celine smiled, "I'm sure I'll get used to it, eventually. Perhaps it plateaus."

"Don't hold your breath." He replied, accelerating into the intersection when it turned green.

This is the last thing Gabriel can remember, before waking up in the hospital.

His eyes fluttered open, suddenly surrounded by the emotions that came with a hospital. Desperation, fear, regret. This was a garden of negativity. He looked at his right arm, which was currently encased in a blue swing. He tried to move, but groaned.

"It's a dislocated shoulder bone, and a sprained wrist." Nathalie's voice filled the room. He looked to her, who watched Adrien, on the floor, with the stuffed butterfly toy.

He distinctly remembered his son playing with the peacock, "What happened?"

She looked up at him, "You were all in a car accident," her voice was cool, but he could tell that she was, was it fear? No, it was distress. "Adrien is fine. Not a scratch. The doctors say that he'll forget about it soon."

Gabriel moved to get out of the medical bed, "Where's Celine?"

"Moving out of bed and ignoring your own care won't change her condition. She's in S-U-R-G-E-R-Y." Nathalie told him, reminding him of his own futility. "I'll get your doctor, alright? She can explain this better than me."

Nathalie pressed the button next to Gabriel's bed. "Luckily, Celine has me as her emergency contact on her insurance."

"What? No she doesn't."

"I was told that if something bad happened to her, she would most likely be with you, and therefore, it didn't make sense to her to make you her emergency contact." Nathalie frowned, "If they ask, tell them that I'm Celine's sister."

The doctor stepped into the room, and Nathalie picked up Adrien, despite protests, and carried him out of the room. This doctor, a young man, was hesitant to speak.

As the doctor spoke to him, regarding the condition of Celine, he realized that Adrien missed his piano recital.

According to the doctor, and several police officers, a car purposely t-boned their car for no disconcernible reason. Celine had shielded Adrien, reacting with incredible speed that _'can only be described as a miracle'_. Apparently, the mother held onto Adrien tight, despite how crushed the car was, not prying him go until she was given a sedative and placed on a stretcher. Gabriel walked away with bruises on his face, chest, and the injuries that Nathalie described.

"Where is she now? Can I see her?"

The doctor looked increasingly timid, and stammered, "We can release you now, with some painkillers to help with the pain, if you'd like."

He signed his release papers, and the painkillers did kick in, though it wasn't too awful. She was upstairs, still in surgery. "Nathalie."

Celine's assistant looked up, "What?" Normally, he'd have to say her name several times for her to respond, but today she was at full attention.

"Take Adrien back to the mansion. He shouldn't be here." He said, "I'll call you as soon I know anything."

"Thank you for keeping me updated." She answered.

Gabriel leaned down to his son, who sat solemnly in a chair, "Everything is going to be alright, Adrien. Mamam and I love you very much."

"I know."

He raised his eyebrows. Children were harder to read, Gabriel had found. The older a person was, the easier their emotions swayed. Adrien was an ocean of emotions that he couldn't read except on surface level. "You do?"

"That's what mamam said after the other car hit us." Adrien replied simply, "Mom doesn't lie."

The father stood, almost shocked. "That's true. I love you. Be good."

As soon as Nathalie was out the door, he turned around. Roger, her guard, and him were the only ones there for her now.

* * *

Celine finally woke up, after what felt like ages. There was a massive pounding in her head, and the room smelt like hospital. Her eyes fluttered open, the she tried to ignore the pain in her legs.

"Celine? Darling? Let me get a nurse." Gabriel's voice was steady, but higher in pitched, he was nervous. Actually, he looked like he'd gotten into a fight, battered and bruised.

She was wide awake. "Where's Adrien?"

"Nathalie's with him at home." Gabriel told her, "I don't want him to see you like this."

"Is he okay, Gabriel. You need to tell me."  _Tell me that what I did wasn't for nothing._

He smiled, his eyes were the brightest things in the room, "Not a hair on his head, Celine. He's perfectly fine. You did great." 

 _Thank god._ She looked around, realizing just how many tubes were hooked up to her, the wires, the casts on her legs. "Did I get a blood transfusion?"

"Yes, sweetheart. Nathalie, Adrien, and you are all the same blood-type." He pressed the button by her bed, next to the heartrate monitor.

A nurse stepped in, wearing light blue scrubs, "Hi, you must be Celine." She picked up a clipboard. "So, what do we have here? Your legs have multiple fractures, and two of your ribs cracked. There's a small lung puncture that we believe will heal on it's own, but there's a long road ahead."

Her nurse left, to retrieve the doctor to give her a more detailed analysis.

"I can grab Fu's salve—"

"You should save it for Adrien." Celine told him. "He might need it more than I do, one day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating! This series will be complete by the end of this week, I promise!


	7. This is Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celine's disappearance

 

Chapter 7: This is Goodbye

Adrien's first memory was decorating a cake with his mom and dad. He remembered getting icing all over him, he remembered surprising his father with icing on his cheek as soon as he looked away, he remembered his mom, standing and smiling and glowing, taking pictures.

He loved to look at the pictures of him and Gabriel, but Celine wasn't in any of them, as she was the photographer, so he didn't look at the pictures too often.

His second memory, was his mom finally coming home from the hospital, being pushed in by Gabriel in a wheelchair. Adrien tried to run up to his mother, but Nathalie held him back, while Gabriel explained that he would have to be especially careful around his mother from now.

Now, twelve years old, he stepped outside, heading towards the garden, knowing that his mamam would be there.

Nathalie stood guard, as Celine was on her hands and knees, Clipping the rose bushes, cutting off dead leaves, and pulling out weeds. Her bamboo cane was on the grass, basking in the sunlight, and Adrien knew that she would need it soon enough.

"Oh! Adrien, what are you doing? Don't you have piano lessons?"

"Yes, he does." Nathalie twittered.

Adrien smiled weakly, loathing that his mother remembered, Adrien hated piano. Adrien hated going to lessons, the same route that his mother had taken that day. "I told him that I wasn't feeling well, and that I would practice tonight to make it up."

Celine shook his head, clipping off roses off and placing them into a basket. "He knows when you're lying, Adrien."

Shrugged he replied, "I wanted to help you with the flowers."

She smiled at her son, and handed him a pair of gardener's gloves. In the distance, she could hear a police siren. Her eyes flashed towards the sound for only moment, and she could sense the longing in her. The habits hadn't died, the cat-like reflexes had never quite gone away, and the desire to save Paris didn't subside in eight years.

Still, the city moved on without Madame Peacock. Even Gabriel had stopped hero-work, choosing to help his wife in her recovery, choosing to work more so that they could stay above water. Celine didn't realize just how much money she made until she couldn't make anymore, and her husband went into high gear to make up for it.

Thirty minutes later, Nathalie told her, "Gabriel's coming, by the way."

Adrien's eyebrows furrowed, looking up. "He looks…excited?"

Celine smirked, "Something must be good, then."

"You all seem confused." He smiled, twirling the miraculous ring around his finger, "But I have some great news."

Gabriel helped Celine up, handing her the cane off the grass. "You're going to model my fall collection for an editorial." He grinned, "Isn't that exciting?"

Adrien sucked in a breath, and glanced to Nathalie, who looked shocked.

Celine tilted her head to the side, her eyes fire, "Gabriel Agreste. What did you do?"

He handed her a magazine clipping from a local Parisian society magazine. She stared at it, "It's not what I did. It was you."

"Why did they declare me the most beautiful in Paris? I haven't left my house in months." Celine's eyebrows furrowed, "This is a picture from last year's Christmas Gala." She wore an empire-wasted navy blue dress, chiffon with an off-shoulder detail. Her hair was twisted up into a topknot, messy strands framing her face. Her appearances in public were only for social functions, dinner parties, runway shows, anything where Gabriel needed her. "Did your publicist do this?" She whispered.

He shook his head, "The world is dying for you, Celine. This is your chance to step back onto the scene."

"You're asking a woman, _a thirty-five-year-old woman,_ past her prime, to return for editorial?" She scoffed, "I had my career, Gabriel, I had a successful ten-year modelling career. I'm accomplished, I have nothing more to put out, what would an editorial about me serve? There's no point."

Gabriel adjusted his collar, looking almost sheepish.

"The editorial is about you!" Adrien's eye's widened. "That's so cool, dad!"

"It's about all of us." He corrected his son, "It's about my family."

Celine's hand gripped her cane, "Why?"

"My fashion lines have seen international success. I'm sold in department stores all across Europe and the U.S." Gabriel stated. "Celebrities wear my dresses, and I have an entire staff of interns who want to be me. People want to write about me."

She smiled, _you finally have what you want, don't you?_ "Alright, Gabriel. Congratulations, I'm happy for you. Goodness, you're strutting around like a peacock." She kissed him on the cheek. "When's the shoot?"

"Tomorrow."

Placing her hand to her chest, she gave him an accusing look, "You didn't tell me until now?"

Adrien's eyebrows furrowed, watching the exchange. Gabriel didn't tell Celine things until it was last minute, though, he did cover all of his bases. The Christmas gala? Gabriel presented her with a new dress. The philanthropy dinner last month? Gabriel brought in a tutor to educate them both on the subject. Social functions? Gabriel brought in Nathalie and gave Celine crash courses on everyone's name and job.

Gabriel nodded. "I promise, it'll be an intimate affair at the Agreste mansion. No one who doesn't have to be there, will be there."

"We can shoot wherever you like, Gabriel." Celine frowned, "I don't think it'll be a problem." Her powers of attraction weren't dying, but they were certainly decreasing with scaled-back publicity, a significant lack of going out in public, and not using her miraculous.

* * *

They sat on a couch, after several hours' worth of photoshoot. Adrien was sitting with Nathalie, off to the side. The photoshoot had gone well, their son was a natural, and Celine fell back into the groove of it quickly enough. The surprise of the day was Gabriel, who really wasn't good at modeling and 'looking natural.' Celine had to assist.

Her cane was leaning against the white couch that Gabriel and her sat on. The reporter, a young woman with dark brown hair and chestnut eyes, placed a recorder on the coffee table between them. She had set up a camera as well, and a microphone. Apparently, it was a live stream as well as a magazine interview. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Gabriel placed his hand in hers, feeling her nervousness. "Yes."

The reporter grinned, "So, let's start with the basics, how long have you two been married?"

Celine smiled, "We got engaged in 1995, and then married in 1999."

She cocked her head at the fashionable couple, "What was the wait?"

He chuckled, "Celine and I argued for a good three years over who would design her wedding dress."

"Well, you're not supposed to see the dress before the wedding." She looked at him playfully, her eyes sparkling against the light flooding in from the windows.

"No, you're not supposed to see the _bride_ before the wedding, _in the wedding dress._ " Gabriel smiled. "I think we've told this story before but it was Celine's dream as a little girl to have a Vera Wang wedding dress, so that was that. I believe we had a Vanity Fair article that went over the whole affair."

"Okay," The reporter chuckled, "And everyone knows how you met, you, Gabriel, were a student in fashion design and you, Celine, was a student and model. Gabriel, has knowing Celine through the years changed your designs?"

Gabriel pursed his lips, thinking for a moment, "I would say yes. Celine was my only model for several months, so my designs changed to highlight her figure. By the time we really became good friends, though, her career had launched, and we weren't working together until I graduated again. I would say my 1994 Spring collection was largely inspired by our relationship, because we got engaged right before I started designing it."

His wife smiled slightly. "I think that was my favorite collection of his to model. I had come off the Bond movie and I was very tan from the shoot and my pictures were really high-energy."

She nodded, "And Celine, you were praised for your acting in that movie. Have you considered film in your future?"

"Oh? Film. Heaven's no." Celine frowned, "Acting was a lot of fun, but I've had my fun. I really just want to settle down with the family."

The reporter nodded, noting something in a notepad. Nathalie and Celine exchanged a glance. She'd have to remember to pre-read the article before it went public.

"And you two had a son! Did you design change when you became a father, Gabriel?" The reporter was back on track, and Celine was relieved that the attention was off her.

Gabriel shook his head, glanced at Adrien, "I've done a lot of menswear lines since my son was born. My family inspires me a lot. When Adrien was a baby? Yes. I was up all night changing diapers and those first three years exhausted me. My collections in the early 2000s definitely reflected that. There was a rawness that you can definitely see in on the runway and in stores."

"Is Adrien going to be a model, too?"

"Absolutely not." Celine answered for them. "Gabriel and I have talked it over, and I really think that modelling isn't as beneficial, as say, getting an education. That's our priority."

"Do you regret modelling?"

She shook her head, "I regret not finishing university. I was studying anthropology when I began modelling for Gabriel. I needed to pay for college, you see. I got modelling job after modelling job, and I changed focus and went to work."

He looked at her, "One-hundred percent. I get a lot of models coming into my studio everyday, and they ask 'Gabriel, what would Celine suggest to me about modelling? What tip would she give me?' and I always tell them that she would say to stay in school."

"I feel so awful about telling Gabriel to say that to them," Celine explained, "Look at me, I succeed. I tell everyone to get a back-up plan, when I myself didn't need one."

"So the tougher questions are coming, are you guys ready?"

Gabriel put his arm around Celine's shoulder, and smiled, "Yes, of course."

"So…obviously, your family dynamic changed a lot after your car accident in 2004. Celine, you stopped modelling completely, would you have continued if there wasn't—"

"I really don't like playing the 'what if' game. I can't change what happened to me no matter what I do." Celine cut her off, smiling sweetly. "I had a spectacular career, and I was at the height of the game. I reached my peak, and in all honestly, I'm glad I didn't have to experience the decline that comes with age."

Gabriel rubbed her shoulder, ignoring Nathalie's glaring eyes. "2004 was a rough year for everyone. My fall collection was very much left up to my staff. I sent off sketches but didn't have a large impact on colors and fabric. I think I showed up to one or two fittings. It was a shock."

Celine suppressed a smirk, amused that he was comparing his life to how his fashion lines came out. It was egotistical, but it was her Gabriel. _How signature,_ she thought.

Adrien may have had a nose in a Chinese book, but he was at full attention. His parents never discussed the accident. Gabriel had essentially forbidden his son from asking about it, and Celine pretending that it never happened in the first place. Nathalie was seething, sitting next to him.

"There are a lot of rumors that surround that day," the reporter noted, highlighting, "people say that paparazzi were following your car, causing the accident, others say that Adrien, four at the time, was a blood donor, we heard that alcohol was discovered in the car at the time of the accident. Anything you can confirm?"

"We weren't drinking, it was midday." Gabriel told the reporter, "Celine kept this nasty flask of bourbon in the glove compartment, for after photoshoots when she really needed it. The accident was really rough on her, and it was a dire situation. Adrien and Celine's assistant both were donors. There wasn't really a question."

"There was a pap behind us in his car." Celine elaborated, "We were headed to private family function, so of course we didn't want that spoiled, but they didn't cause the accident. Someone just pulled out and t-boned us."

Adrien read a line in his textbook, feeling the beginning swathes of guilt at the bottom of his feet. He at least knew that it was his piano recital. Hell, he remembered missing it and being so pleased.

Gabriel picked up on Adrien's emotions immediately and added, "Of course, it was so random, no one could've possibly predicted that it could happen, no ones to blame." He hoped to appease his son, and his wife, who also felt guilty. He knew that it was his wife's fault, her superpowers had caused the other driver to ram into them on instinct.

But he would never tell her that, no matter how many times she asked.

The reporter continued on through her questions.

"Do you guys find it funny that you're now number one on the hottest couple in Paris?" She asked them, "You used to be number two, but Madame Peacock and Hawkmoth have been out of commission these past few years. I ask because I remember you interview with Alec Cataldi, where he asked you both about being number two."

Celine swallowed, "It's not really a competition. I miss those two heroes, I hope they're well. Oh my goodness, that interview. We were so young, Gabriel."

"Oh, I'm sure they're off doing something domestic, having children, breeding puppies, something relaxing. They worked really hard." Gabriel grinned, "Not unlike us."

"So, by that you mean," Celine teased, "We're having more kids, and we're getting dogs? This is new."

He winked to her, "No. God no. Please."

The questions went on.

Later, Adrien, Gabriel, and Celine sat together at dinner, which consisted of Chinese food from the kitchen.

Adrien took his chopsticks, prodding rice around his plate. "Who are Madame Peacock and Hawkmoth? I've never heard of them."

Gabriel paused, staring at his broccoli beef, not entirely sure how to proceed. Celine didn't hesitate. "They were these two superheroes who worked throughout the 90s in Paris fighting crime."

"Woah! _Real_ superheroes? What were they like?" Adrien was amazed, "Did they have real powers, or were they like Batman?"

He chuckled, composing himself, "They had real powers. Hawkmoth could create superheroes to work for him, like a little soldier. Madame Peacock was way cooler though. She could use this power to be the center of attention, and attract all the bad guys to her so she could lay waste to them."

"It was amazing." Celine murmured, trying to guess how Gabriel felt. She felt nostalgic, maybe he felt proud? Was it pride in his voice? Was he trying to come off as a fan?

Adrien smiled, "So they were the hottest couple? They were in love?"

"A lot people speculated. These two started fighting crime when they were fifteen, and essentially did it until they were twenty-four." Celine explained. "They were very romantic, definitely. They were excellent dancers."

Her husband raised a finger, "They could also fly, it's not mentioned much, but that was also pretty cool, on top of all the punching and the superpowers."

Adrien's face fell, "But they stopped." Why would any superhero just _stop?_

Celine nodded, "They were older, I'm sure they had a family to start, or something. Maybe they retired? The kind of stuff they did, the amount of time and energy, that had to have taken its toll."

"Still, it'd be so cool to be a superhero."

"It was." Gabriel responded, coolly.

"Wait, really?" Adrien's eyes widened, "Oh my gosh, that's am—"

"I'm kidding." He smiled slightly, "Me, Hawkmoth? That's ridiculous with my schedule."

Celine let out a nervous laughter, using her heel to step on his toes. "Goodness, Gabriel. You almost convinced me."

He winced, "Well, what can I say, I was a Bond girl after all."

They all laughed. Soon, it devolved into superhero puns. Celine's looked at her food, shaking her head. "You're both ridiculous."

If Adrien could describe the relationship of his parents, he would say: normal. They were a happy couple. Gabriel balanced out Celine's kindness and brought her out of her shell, so that she wasn't a pushover. Celine? Celine softened Gabriel's ice-queen heart, he was kind, but firm. His parents didn't fight much. Adrien felt that, the way they acted, that at one point, they were a couple that fought, but had gotten it all out. His parents had conflicts, but they were resolved conflicts.

Now, if Adrien could describe the relationship of his parents after the article about them came out? He would most likely say: lawful evil. They fought as though they were playing a game of chess, it was carefully calculated. Adrien could sit down and muse over their argument for hours, discovering new moves, unearthing layers of the argument.

They were sitting at breakfast two days later, Gabriel was sketching out designs, Adrien and Celine were talking about a movie they had seen the night before. Nathalie walked in, clearly just getting in, and dropped a magazine next to Celine. It had her on the cover. Adrien didn't get to read what the cover said before Celine snatched it up.

Nathalie immediately made her exit. Looking back, Adrien realized that Nathalie knew what kind of fight would erupt in the Agreste household.

"So, the article was about me, all along?" She stated. " 'Speaking out for the first time in 8 years, my accident, my family, and my life'?"

Gabriel didn't look up, "That wasn't the original article, but the reporter felt as though you were the more interesting one, between us."

"You knew that would happen, didn't you?'

He glanced up, not smiling, it was as though an unspoken language was occurring between the two of them, "They're drawn to you, Celine, and it's not just _you._ You're genuinely charming and clever. You have fun stories and people are interested in what you have to say."

She narrowed her eyes, "You approved this article, right? You know damned well that this is not what I'm interested in doing anymore!" Celine flung the magazine in his face, "What's next then? More modelling? A movie? Don't tell me, is it a book deal?"

His scowl was infectious, and dark, "No, Celine. Don't be naïve. This wasn't about you."

"This article is all about me."

"No." Gabriel and her still sat at the table, "I'm a designer, I'm a worldwide fashion designer. My image matters. How people perceive me? That matters. You and I go hand-in-hand on everything. How does it look on me to have a wife who is a recluse?"

Celine smirked, "You and I both know why I don't go out, Gabriel. Something along the lines of 2004, can you recall? I can't be a celebrity."

"Well, no matter what I do, you're going to always outshine me, so you can't just sit in the shadows." Gabriel replied.

"Does it really matter?" Celine wondered, "How much of my fame rubs off onto you, and actually helps your business? What does me being the center of attention really do for you? I can't believe that after 8 years, I have to remind you that you're not my sidekick."

"Don't pretend like you know the fashion industry anymore. My image, my family's image, matters." Gabriel sighed, "It's for the family, Celine."

"It's for you." Celine replied, her voice rose, "How does this help me? How does this help Adrien? We don't need the money, Gabriel."

"It's not about the money. It's about the success." He yelled back. "And even if this didn't help me, wouldn't being out there be better for you? Wouldn't having friends and participating be better than this?"

"It's not worth it if I can't even do good anymore!" Celine replied. Adrien could've sworn that tears were threatening to spring. "I can't help people anymore! What's the point in being the center of everyone's affection and attention and adoration if it means nothing? What's the point if neither of us can help people anymore? You're too busy and I can't walk without searing pain. What's the point?"

He shook his head. "You didn't have to bring that up, you know. I'm just trying to help you. I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy."

Adrien's father tilted his head to the side, another unspoken thing passing between them. Adrien glanced between them, not entirely sure. His mother's hair was swept to the side, concealing most of her face from Adrien. His father had a near-perfect poker face. The young Agreste wondered if they forget that he was even there.

Celine laughed, "Really? Is that what you're doing? How is that fair, Gabriel? Stop, whatever it is you're doing, stop."

"I could if I would, but I can't." It was so smooth, so veracious. Adrien knew that his father was a perfect liar, and he couldn't tell if he was lying or not.

"Did you think that this would make me happy?" Celine replied, "Did you think that putting me in the spotlight, _yet again_ , would help?"

"What am I supposed to do?" Gabriel answered, "Your legs won't heal. You can't do what you truly want to do. Why don't you work to fulfill yourself in other mediums?"

"I'm a mother, Gabriel. I am fulfilled. I garden and play the violin and study anthropology. You don't see it because as soon as you get home I spend time with you." Celine furrowed her eyebrows, "Don't pretend that this is about my happiness, this is still about _you_ and _your_ desire for more success. You're trying to say that your actions will consequently lead to my happiness, which it won't because I'm already happy."

Gabriel sighed, "You haven't backed me into a corner yet. You're still affecting my image."

"Oh, the great, amazing, confident Gabriel Agreste cares what other people think of him?" Celine mused, chuckling slightly, looking like a hawk about to descend onto it's prey. "I'm shocked, to say the least. What brought on this new development, darling?" She stood, leaning on her cane, she kissed his hair, and patted his shoulder sympathetically, "Checkmate, baby, apologize."

"I still have your contract, _baby_. Ultimate checkmate, clears away the board, really."

"It's a contract for a modelling agency." Celine told him, "I can't model for you, or anyone else anymore." Her voice trembled as she spoke, however. Adrien could see her face cracking, and he realized that his mother was afraid of what he might say next.

"You can think that, if you want." Gabriel answered. "There's things for you to do. Don't worry. I'll find something suitable."

Celine left the room. Gabriel looked over at his son, who stared into his cereal bowl. His cereal was all mushy now from the milk, effectively inedible.

"You seem confused." His father spoke, his voice reverberating off the high ceiling.

Adrien looked up, and countered, "I am confused."

"Don't forget this, a good argument makes the difference." Gabriel told him.

He glared at his father, "The difference between what, exactly?"

His platinum blonde father, pushed up his glasses, and glanced down at the magazine, smiling slightly. "The difference between a strong relationship and a bad relationship."

"I don't get it, papa. How does fighting make a relationship stronger?"

Gabriel shook his head, "We're communicating to each other what we want. Sure, that fight may have seemed rather rough, but, believe me, your mother and I are going to make up and come to a compromise that will make everyone happy."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He replied, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to be off for work."

Of course, by the time Gabriel had returned, Celine was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Before Nathalie and Celine went out for lunch, she had their driver stop in front of Fu's shop.

"Do you need any help, Celine?" Nathalie asked, wondering what they were doing in front of this Asian chiropractor's studio.

"No, I'll be fine." She answered, stepping out. "There's something I have to do."

Master Fu listened to her, completely explaining her situation the contract, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I was ashamed Fu." She explained, "I already have three scheduled shoots. I called the agency and I can't cancel them even if I wanted to."

Wayzz and Pooki were next to them, sitting silent, watching the exchange between the two miraculous wielders. They had spoken on the phone regularly for years, but this was the first time in a long time that they got to see each other face-to-face. And now it was Celine saying her goodbyes.

Fu felt a tear roll down his cheek, "I made a mistake. I'm so sorry I ever gave you and Gabriel the miraculous. If I had known? The book didn't say anything about this, Celine." This sense of dread filled his inner core. He had not felt this shaken in his wisdom in almost 100 years.

Celine shook her head, "That's why I'm also here. I want…I-I want to return my miraculous, Fu. You should give it to someone who can use it."

"No!" Fu shot back, "I'm going to do two things for you, and I'm going to do them right. First, I'm going to heal your legs. Second, I'm going to not accept your miraculous."

"What? No. Why?"

"The only reason you haven't gotten healed is so you can purposely not model. If you're leaving Paris, it's going to be a lot harder if you can't walk, or get a prescription without needing a paper trail." Fu frowned, "And second, you need your miraculous, Celine."

She smiled, "I love you. You-You've really been like a father to me."

"Don't make my cry harder." He enveloped her into a hug. "But you have a lunch date to get to, so let's make this quick."

* * *

Gabriel searched around the house for his family. "Adrien? Celine?" It was later than usual, after dinner. Surely they didn't go out? He was looking around the entire home when Nathalie approached him. In the main front room.

"Adrien is at Chloe Bourgeois' home." Nathalie stated, she held out a letter. "T-this from Celine."

He could sense the immense calm she felt, as well as a burning sensation, a sense of loss. Gabriel looked rather confused, and opened the letter.

_His Agreste poker face is failing him,_ Nathalie thought, though, it wasn't exactly a funny situation. She turned to leave, ready to face the world, when he looked up, and spoke.

"You're out of a job."

Nathalie did smile now, this, for example, was a funny situation. "What makes you think that I would want to work for you, Gabriel?"

He stood firm, trying to regain his footing. "You've worked for Celine for well over a decade. Almost ten years? Right? You're probably going to look for more work in the fashion industry. One complaint from me, however, and you'll be lucky to work in department-store retail."

She sighed, Celine had told her that Gabriel wouldn't hire her unless she made it clear that she didn't want to work for him. She was pleased. "What can I do for you, Monsieur Agreste?"

* * *

_AN: Thank you so much for reading! Please check soon for a continuation of this universe in my next fanfic, which is going to be after Volpina, about Gabriel's revitalized search for Celine, and his discovery of the identity of Chat Noir._


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